Go away, puss!
Who decided 4 cats was a good idea, anyways?!
It is such a great shame
That you truly are so shitty
Because I really enjoyed playing
When you were but a precious kitty.
~
Copyright © 2023 Kalina Bethany. All rights reserved.
Thanks for reading this short bit about trying to fall asleep with cats (yes, multiple!) hissing underneath the bed!!!
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About the Creator
Kalina Bethany
{she/her}
Constantly seeking new adventures
A passionate writer of the non-fiction, historic taste, novel and surreal
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More stories from Kalina Bethany and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis4 days ago in Humans
Comments (2)
Lol, this was a fun poem! May I know what are their names?
all little bundles of joy grow up 😳😳, nice little poem 😊😊