I am a street cat with a fancy last name but no sense of loyalty or belonging, I run away to the jaws of streets from the warmth of home … I’m astray and doing me kindness won’t make me less wild, giving me love won’t change me to accept that I deserve it even if you get me well groomed and dressed, my sense of danger gets alarmed every time I sense someone approaching me & shelter makes me feel less protected … if you embrace me I will scratch & if you keep me I’ll run away… I don’t want to owe anyone anything, I return to loneliness because I got used to it as a part of who I am & I dont want you to tell me the things you do for me or abandon me one day to suffer pain after being numb as a blessing … my place is not to be a prisoner by kindness tamed brushed with perfume in a house on a pillow obeying the hands that feed me but messed up fucked up swallowed up in freedom keeping my needs caged from turning to a monster that feeds on my weakness … I prefer using my instincts taking what I need from life than taking from you what you think I want for your amusement.
Delicate roughness in the desert’s wind delivers whistling through the thickness of the night.
He melts in dairy rich moon foam which I want to spread on his toasted forehead. He glows like an armour of stars with one eye that is crystal swan and another that is burning wood. With his breath he stirs my ocean in a scene so delicate which I am afraid to touch then it would vanish!
Yesterday I broke two toes today I ran faster than any day … to catch a thief you need a fingerprint that is dull and old, lose the print to push the walls of the box further, its existence is not a prison but a motive to inspire even by fear and agony … freedom is a mirage in an infinite desert but give me empty space and I shall create!