Blood
The couch is torn apart.
Cushions bitten into.
Stuffing covering everything.
The claws swiped but didn’t get me.
They just knocked over the juice on the counter.
Juice everywhere.
But it’s better than blood.
He lives in the pantry.
All I have is some cereal and it’s mostly stale.
He eats it and laughs.
As I picked up the broken glass, I got a cut on my finger.
There is no blood, only a tender burning.
Then the cut laughs a bit.
I reach for a bandage and the lights flicker.
Slime is coming from the faucet.
But it’s better than blood.
The sun hasn’t set in 38 hours.
My cut didn’t stop talking for two days.
But it’s better than blood.
I never fixed any of the broken stuff in my house.
I just sat and ate stale cereal in the pantry.
I never fix anything.
I take a sip of milk but it’s spoiled.
But it’s better than blood.
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