Gracefully the cat
Circled around its'
Owners' legs
Purring louder
To be held
And stroked
Gently down her spine
Having been satisfied
A sip of milk
Upon sandpaper lips
Would do
A spot in the
Warm sun
Would do nicely
And a dream
Of catching a mouse
Even better

Don't talk to me about your love,
I've never seen a drop of it.
Don't talk to me about the climb,
I'll never reach the top of it.
Don't talk to me about the flowers
You've been prattling on for ****** hours!
Don't talk to me as if I don't know
That "rain will make the flowers grow".

Don't talk to me about your dance
I don't even have a dress.
Don't talk to me about your friends
I beg of you, give it a rest!
Don't talk to me about the sky
Mine has only ever been gray.
And if you try to talk about "healing"
I'll MAKE you go away!

This whole world that you create,
It's gorgeous, I must say it's great:
A beautiful cake on a pretty plate.
Welp, guess that means I'm second-rate!
Your poems are all meant to titillate
You titter and twitter and domesticate
These themes that even optimists could hate
I'll never be able to felicitate
You enough for the work that you narrate.
My morbid tones you must negate,
And to fix my soul: eviscerate!

Two hearts bound,
Twining round
A thorny vine.
It's yours and mine.

Two hearts bleed.
My guilt, your greed.
You took away
My yesterday.

Two hearts kiss.
You longed for this.
I stood my ground.
Now we are bound.

And then White Winter fell,

The haunting breath of fall to quell.

The light’s last gleam, so soft and bright,

Was shattered on that frigid night.

She prayed that it might be alright,

But then white winter fell.

Water whispers, froths and bubbles.
Tiny bodies swim in doubles,
Schooling along the edge of their world
Where the fish tank ends.

A panting tongue creates a mist;
Soft golden fur, tail in a twist,
Barking at the outside world
Where the window ends.

Poised and tense, smooth muscles coil
Whiskers twitch with internal turmoil
To track a leaf beyond her world
Where the sliding door ends.

Dreary shivers, dark and damp,
God's distant voice my only lamp.
I can only gape at the mad, mad world
Where my glass cage ends.