A Black Cat Moment

Dear Spying Soulmate,

You stuffed her, didn’t you? Sometime my night, your early morning hour; you did her, didn’t you? Then you finished yourself, stood up, and veered left away from her almost lifeless body. She lay there white-blanketed on your spotless hardwood floor, then turned her neck slowly to my right and gasped for air. I remained invisible to her, to you.

My eyes followed quickly your legs climbing up that uncomfortable metal staircase…the one that clanks like chains whenever you step. I could hear now the clanging and sharp rattle as you walked cheerfully up and made your way into your white, empty bathroom for a cold, cold shower. You sure did make that staircase sing.

Yet, you didn’t really do her. You did instead my soul, as you’ve always done. You just use any hooker’s body, don’t you? Just to get to my soul, to make you think I’m closer to you. Why do you keep doing this? Every time “Feathers” makes her visit to you, you fuel yourself up thinking about me. You then go to a night bar, pick up some low-hanging gal, drive her to your place, and then stuff her. How many more clones will you screw thinking about me?

You keep spying on me because you cannot see.

A Black Cat Moment

I know I’ve been away several days now. Some know that running motif in my life that as the Black Cat I have lived by and know all too well. That is, the Black Cat returns. No, I’m not referring to that time, that year, when I returned home to my ancestral place, Salem, Massachusetts. I won’t now go into that story.

What I’m telling you now is that when I returned from where I was, I was greeted by this farm stench coming from the plump mouse I had had my claws drive a hole in his head some time ago. I don’t now remember exactly how I caught him that day, but I do remember I had left him hanging on my kitchen wall, frameless.

As I walked passed by him, I studied his short gulps of breath. He tried for air. Those pale pink, tiny paws, still waving hopelessly found my attentiveness. “Look at you,” I said to him.

A Black Cat Moment

To the spying soulmate, I know where your paranoia lives. You’ve made Hell your mind, Heaven your heart, and nothing’s left that gives.

Like Lucifer, you believe Hell to be a better reign than a server to Heaven. You’ve fallen for this over here, for that over there, and thus, made your mind his obsession.

God is a jealous God. Do you not find it odd, you still can’t fill your head, your heart with His light; instead, you part?

The blood deals made with your god is a contract you can’t control. He’s come to collect his debt, your gold.

A Black Cat Moment

Dear Schizo Soulmate,

You, yes, you…the one I haven’t yet met. I’m talking to you.

Have you run out of fantasies to entertain yourself?

What’s the matter? Still need my fire to create your selfish thought patterns?

Well, I’m not here, and I’m not there.

Unless you’re looking for claw marks, don’t come to me showing off some golden retriever and a dozen red roses.