I know
That all my poems seem to be about is my cat.
I know
You probably think I'm being dramatic
And that I shouldn't still be so sad.
I know
The sad poems about dead pets
Are getting old.
But it seems like that's all that inspires me.
My sadness from a missing kitty wells up inside me until it forces out a well of words.
My words are my coping mechanism for this tiny death of a tiny kitty.
Because I'm not strong.
And I still miss my kitty like hell.
And I won't apologize for it.
