pronouncingitwang:

denialandavoidance:

[ID: A tweet from @\KateClanchy1 reading “What animal is your heart? Is one of my favorite poetry questions. But I’ve never had an answer like this. Kyla is 17.” Below is a screenshot of an image. When enlarged, it reads,

My heart is a cockroach, caught in the mouth of an alley cat

This cat has not always been feral. It had known / the warm spot on the rug in front / of the fireplace. But on a summer’s day someone / left the door open. The cat, not knowing / any dark thing, leapt away from love. (My heart / leaves open cans of sardines for the alley cat. / Even runaways full of regret deserve to be fed, ) / The cat makes a bed of missing pet posters / the wind tore down. / And the cat is hissing at shadows in its sleep. / And the cat is shivering in its matted fur. / And the cat is meowing at the restaurant backdoor. / A waiter, who is also my heart, leaves the backdoor open. / So the cat can be warm for the rest of his shift. / But the cat is feral. The owner of the restaurant / shoves him back into the snow with a broom. / The cat sleeps until the snow reminds it of the rug. / Small things seem sadder when they are alone. / So the cockroach does not mind being in the jaw / of something just as lonely. A little girl / follows the paw prints that made a snow angel / around the cat. Despite the cockroach / in its mouth and its matted fur she picks it up. / And the cat, who knows of dark things now, / spends summer in the lap of the little girl / who is also my heart.

Kyla Pereles (17)

/end ID]