i saw this prompt somewhere,
asking me what i'd do
if i had nine lives.
and my first thought was—
was i being given a chance
to live as a cat for a while?
sarcastic, of course, it was,
but it really made me think.
so i settled down
and began making a list
of what i'd actually do
if i were to have,
not one, but nine different lives come true.
i believe i'd spend the first
living and experiencing
all forms of art my eyes could pick up:
reading and listening,
watching, looking,
visiting museums, talking to people,
asking the writers what gave birth to their empiricals.
the second, perhaps, i would—
put myself up and forward,
creating the same art
as i hoped i would.
and maybe i'd write
to the length of the night.
i'd create all sorts of felonies,
live somewhere unknown to horizons,
creating my life away.
the third was a confusion.
what did i truly wish to do?
maybe this time, i'd learn
all that there was for me to.
i'd look on and become one
among the smartest people—
to get to know what put them at the top,
and whether it was a life i truly yearned for.
the fourth came easy.
i'd be an artist,
a model or an actor.
i'd climb up high on a pedestal,
look at the faces watching me
from the crowd below,
trying to understand
whether it was really fun
and cut out for me so.
the fifth, i wondered—
what would it be like to live on the roadside,
barely surviving, dying the next day?
i'd want to understand the aches they go through—
those without a home, money, or food—
to perhaps help them better
and make sense of what inspired me to.
the sixth life—
i wanted to spend it being loved,
and being loved by someone
who wouldn't want an other.
just loving, spending my entire existence
there, physically and spiritually,
seeping into one another.
love was it for the sixth.
unknown in the end,
it finished with my sacrifice—
from no one but my lover,
whom i couldn't defend.
the seventh life, then—
i'd hug everyone i come across,
take away their pain:
child-like sorrows, grave depths of despair—
all kinds. and even as i end it,
let it consume me.
i'll have it known that maybe,
this way, the world will be a lighter place to live.
so when i take birth next,
someone could do the same.
and maybe we could share each other's sorrows
and laugh out all the pain.
let it seep through all the shared veins.
and maybe that way,
i'll spend two of my lives together.
eighth—one more to go, and then it’d be over.
so i lived in fear, avoiding getting close enough
to make anyone dear.
i wandered through the nights,
unsure of when i made this choice.
the mornings seemed scary;
i yearned for voices.
i found comfort in the lonely,
slid away slowly,
and let the last life catch on to me—
before i ended it myself,
i know it was lowly.
ninth life. here i was.
and i realized i hadn't chosen the previous three.
someone else made those choices—
who opted, i wondered?
who gave me those experiences i wrote?
suddenly, i realized it was honest:
the past three were lives i never wished to live.
this was perhaps my first.
now, i’m back in the present,
in my twenties,
the past years gone forever.
i don’t know how i spent them,
(i wouldn’t want to remember the forgotten)
but now i realize
all i yearned to do
and the fears i saw coming true.
i’m still here, putting down the list.
i'm going to sleep in tomorrow
and go to my classes the day after.
and i’ll continue,
doing all that i wanted to,
in the nine lives i was offered.
for i could wish,
but i was given just this one.
and i guess i’ll try to live
all of them
in a single one.
realllllyyyy old from the drafts- dates back to '23, i guess
cats: hate affection, yearn for it in silence/ stare at you obnoxiously, love like you're the only/ independent, depend while trusting
i need a black cat
