Life of a Studio Cat

As I sit each day thinking about you, as I look out the clear window;

Did you know, the window and you have many things in common? Transparent, like when we are together, showing me all of your sides,

It is similar to the couple below that creep silently past each night.

Their arms stretched out like a tightrope, yet, still hand in hand.

in an unspoken hurry, shifting their eyes rapidly. A forbidden love

not ready to be exposed to the bright days, quick and harsh judgment.

Like the unsure tone you use when your feelings bleed onto my ears.

Opening up to me, is comparable to the slow sliding of the open window.

Early summer breezes, sweet and warm breathe down my arched back,

filling my lungs with hopes for our future, all while you spin me tightly.

The midday sun turns our room into a bath of warmth, heating my black coat.

It is near to the warmth I feel when I am curled securely within your legs.

Pictures you paint to me about the adventures to come drip with optimism.

As stunning as the sunsets that wash the sky from orange to violet, then black.

My emerald eyes uncovered in the nighttime reflection, both in the window

and your eyes, are the images that reassure me, there is life outside this room.

The drops of water that dance against the bitter gray pane, remind me

of the tears that land in-between my velvet triangle ears. As the drops of water

depart from you chin, I am reminded once again that I am not your only love.

It’s hard at times, because the window has an outside, and you an inside.

Do you ever wonder what I do when the shades are shut and you are far away?

I look through my hollow shadow not finding peace in what I see, and close my mind.

Elizabeth Otter

Sitting all alone on this quiet cold step,

I hear your voice calling out to me.

But as I look down the wooded street-

the canopy of leafy trees covering the harsh rays

from my pail skin – sprit – vulnerable heart – .

It’s not you I see on the dreary cement walk.

Or in the hustling cars that pass by our home.

And I am forced to realize that the cry was,

once again, a memory that stole me from reality.

Suddenly I realize while still safely on the limestone steps -

- That you won’t be returning.

It is at this moment, the busy city street stops.

Everyone once focused on themselves

turn to watch my demise; and it is them-

not I, who all at once fall down to their knees,

holding their heads while letting out a pained cry.

But I will not let the world fall apart –

even if you were my whole eternity.

So I grab the black painted iron railing,

and force myself to stand on unsure legs;

picking up the folded unsure bodies as I do.

Breathing for the first time in years.

I take the drugs that allow me to forget for a moment
The effect your memory has on me
I never wanted to feel this way
To be a freckle on your arm
When you are my orbit
As I wait for the drugs to creep through my body
I wish it was you instead
My make believe world will be upon me soon
Is it fair that I only have 5 minutes without you each day
In between reality and fantasy

I think so
Because five minutes sometimes feels like an eternity
And I have learned about other than me, through pain