3 am, knows my habits.
Fellow insomniacs grow bored further into the night.
I was slicing cheese for a guilty snack. My attention was caught by the
Scratching of a cat outside my window. That was, I believe, the first
Time I noticed my strange tendencies...
I gave the cat a piece of cheese.
Well aware that a cat that is fed will always come back for more...
The enticing beauty of my knife was the symptom...
The cheese, resembles my hungry curiosity. The cat, was my urge. The moon reflects its phase and reflects
That much more light off of my knife.
The very same light that glistens in the eyes of my new friend.
I slice the cheese, fresh and soft. The cat becomes excited.
Or perhaps I'm merely projecting my emotions onto the newly satisfied feline.
The cat has taken to following me.
You could say that we've gotten quite used to each other.
...However....
The cat becomes more hungry, and more frequently, so my cheese is always handy.
Every time I take out my knife, the cat shows me its excitement.
Blood rushing, excitment. Classic Ivan pavlovian conditioning.
I slice the cheese. And I feed myself again.
The craving I seek...
3am knows me.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: Gade 12- Present Day
PoesiFrom another guy in the world, to you. Words that aren't spoken, but remain true. I hope you find comfort in my poetry too. A rusted connection to my reality, because honestly. I've lost it.
