Dooodlelis

My eyes the sun, My mind the moon, I am the soil. Petals on my tongue. I have shed a thousand times. To grow, Is to bloom.

Beneath the tree canopy, a drama unfolds, As ants succumb to the fungus' hold. Their bodies become hosts in a ghoulish display, As cordyceps directs their final ballet.

oh, a little cat— oh… it’s me? wait—am i a cat? no, it can’t be. my tongue feels weird, so rough, so pink— my thoughts get fuzzy i start to blink. my feet are small, no socks, no shoes— i stretch, i yawn, like cats all do. i guess i woke up, just like that… and somehow, yes— i turned into a cat.

met you online— i think it’s called twitter? isn’t it crazy how our love twitters— like a tweet tweet bird sound, lol, that’s what i sent when you made me laugh at some dumb little vent. then we went to the movies, our very first meet, and later that night my heart skipped a beat. i didn’t feel like a bird, but under starry sighs, i felt, for the first time, i found my skies.

i wonder what it’ll be a year from now— will the trees still howl? will i wake in the night to some utter disaster, or just wake on the hour, pants and socks on, ready for my nine-hour? i kind of long for disaster— i’m tired of nine hours. but i’m scared too, scared of the world breaking when all i wanted was something to shake me. stuck in this between of bored and tired, need excitement, need more— need money, need a farm, need happiness, need more more more— i want to read every book, absorb every word, fill my mind like a library that never burns. maybe a black cat will guide me, slip through the cracks, and show me the way out of this maze.