Bricks

There is something beautiful that i
have to write but i do
not know what it is. i know there are skies
melting into oceans to
create a song, but i
do not know where the sky is.

i only know that i will fly there
one day. But for now i
am a cat, chasing butterflies and birds,
digging my nails into the trees as if they
deserve to be punished. As if when i
reach the top branch i will be flying
but i am not, i am only falling. i
am a cat and
cats do not have hands to grip a pencil,
cats cannot tell you that i love you, cats
are kicked and yelled at because master is

angry

and cats cannot carve a hole in
my skull to let the words out.

i curl up on the bed, dream
of catching butterflies, only so i
can sew their wings to my back.