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Poem

Should i worry for her
if She holds a knife
but with crimson intent?
if She spreads velvet
of thick consistency
unto her loaf of bread,
but pauses with a shaking hand
tightening gripe around the butter
“harmless” silver?

Goodmorning.
i saw her words fall like
deadweight
then hit the ground
denting even marble.
i didn’t flinch one bit
i’ve seen this before.
Her eyes blink but they do not see
Her chest heaves but not for air;
for troubles.
Standing on my hind legs
i tried to converse
But all i let out was a muffled whine
She gives me a reassuring look
then pats my head
Everything is going to be alright.

Should i worry if She leans too far out the window?
Or whenever She sits on the ledge?
Should i worry if the last time
when her smile was empty
She took thirty white cylinders
before going to bed?

The last time this happened
She slept for three days
and never awoke to feed me.
I damn near starved
to Death!


S.M. Alexis

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