It will be night soon,

And I flutter away into the dark.

Pet me…

I stare into daylight,

But hate those warm hands that try to hold me down.

Pet me…

Warmth was always a commodity for me,

One forever drawn to me.

Pet me…

I’m here because no else picked me,

Because I looked at a lost boy and saw someone who needed to feel normal.

Pet me…

I’m here because black fur holds bad luck for folks festering in foul mouthed falsehoods,

I’m here because he needed me.

Pet me…

He needed me to feel like a kid again,

Stepping into the world where thought fashioned hammers beat against his skull.

Pet me…

He wants to have a cat,

I can give him that,

Cliché’s and all,

I can give him that.

© 2016 Jared “I.J” Steinberg. All Rights Reserved.

#poetry