I can feel
Every popping seam
And every tearing stitch
in the fabric of
our intersewn lives

I can feel the dividing powers
Not quite separating evenly
But taking and leaving
pieces of each other

As we go our own ways
Perhaps not in the physical world
Maybe not mentally either
but the implications are as clear as our once pronounced coexistence

Soon we will part
Turn and walk away from
a piece of our dying heart(s)
not feeling much but numb

And the apathy will even out
our gains and loses
so that we dont feel anything
as we break what once was

And despite the strange estrange
Given the warm memories
That leave me now frost with tears
or sadness that it should insinuate

That is not what squeezes me
Thats not what troubles me
It isnt whats left me puzzled
But what is

Is the fact that I am not as
grief-stricken
or heavy-hearted
anguished
as I'd presumed to be

And oh how much
How much that worries me

I believe that she's a goddess
in all her female, feline glory
every worry seems to fade
when I stroke her from neck to tail

Pine-tree eyes gazing from underneath the table,
a rarely used mew like the tinkling of chimes,
intricate silkiness intersewn with sable,
and a glinting little bell collar, shining like new dimes

I hardly ever see her,
but she's there when I need her,
as if bleeding saltwater
causes her to feel friendly.

If I ever have to leave this earth,
I want to find the feline hearth,
with all of its eternal worth.

If something,
someone ends me,
That's where she'll send me.