That cat

He looks at me,

The neighbor’s pet.

Black fur,

Piercing eyes.

I know it’s just a symbol

Of everything wrong

Within me,

But it’s not .

I wish I was at the right point,

I wish I could, love a cat.

But I can’t.

It’s not only me against self.

Not a “get over it" thing.

This cat despises me,

He looks at me with hatred,

With hunger.

He sees that I'm not

Going to be a lover.

He couldn’t win me over,

With a dead bird on my mat.

So bettet get the claws out.

Make a plan and execute.

Take me out, like some mobster.

Because I know too much....