i don't know what i feel

my friend, my scribe, she comes back to my part of the house and sings to me and brings me treats...and i hiss and scream. if i weren't declawed i would have torn her face open when she held me. my loving m person came back and brushed me, and i couldn't help but purr but i cried and cried.
i had more love than even i thought i was worth, i must admit...or maybe i'm not always so sure i have the love. maybe i never had it. they call me "funny, goofy, silly cat..." maybe too dull a cat. not interesting enough.
i'm a big black cat, and they're little orange baby kittens. they smell like fear, but not afraid of me. look back at me when i growwwl and just blink big hazel eyes in little orange faces...and i run away. i run back to where it makes sense, where the world smells like first person. sometimes to my friend's room, but it smells like little orange kaya...but i do so love that air bed...i go back there and pretend hard that it never happened. that i wake up and it never happened and it will go back how it was, when i was the only baby...now i'm not even a baby anymore.

(then again, the babies aren't getting any roast beef...there are certain compensations...)

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