copurrnicus
Scurry past,
Tiptoe,
Guarded.
But don’t act too cautious—
He can smell the fear.
This game of cat and mouse
Gets exhausting,
But I can’t sleep,
Because what if it’s then
That he decides to pounce?
A wicker basket woven
From his unkept promises
Is his favorite plaything
Aside from my heart,
Batted across the floor like an empty sandwich wrapper.
I scurry past,
Tiptoe,
Terrified,
But not cautious enough.
I am so desensitized to the fear,
The pain he inflicts,
That I don’t even realize
When he
Eventually
Bites my head clean off.


























