My eyes are closing
Yet my mind
Is wide awake
How I long
For sleep
But words are
Tossing around
And ready to
Recycle
If i piece my words
Together
Can i hang them
Out to expose
Or should I fold
Them neatly away

only her body
was small

everything else
impacted the

planet

compassion
is the best

type of
passion

I think her
voice is

an echo

living in
many

generations
she will pass

through time
and be felt

just short
of forever

her angelic
demon eyes

see into the
darkness

anything that
moves is hers

with her claws
she scratches

her tag
leaving her

marks in the
deepest parts

of me

she is the true
soul of a cat

she dares me
to domesticate her

as she purrs
in my ear

Remaining clinged to proving my own point to be right to others is a pointless mental exercise for me.