#UnspokenFears

Mad indeed would I be to expect belief and yet
you see me here before you bound by such insanity.

Pussy lives below but cries at the door.
To come in or out I do not know. But the meows make pictures in my mind.

Once dark thoughts made furry tongues. I spoke with words not meant by me.
I learned that bedlam is a hungry cat.
My hands grew claws, my taste for cream led me, to murder.
Just to stop the raven.
I killed the bird to stop its farking cry.
My partner, to close his eye and thus behind the wall is silence

But lately in the quiet hours, I fancy that the cat is back.
Black reminds, a sudden breath brings on fear, its twitches,
at the end of my tale.