to the bitter end

i feed

the cat her food.

premium cat

food, black caviar

and fish,

but do i get a thank you. no.

she's selfish

and aloof.

distant

and quiet. always in

a strange

mood.

i try to pick her up

but she claws

my hand, drawing

blood out

in four lines of skin.

i put her out the door.

she disappears for a while,

finding an alley

full of strange

cat men,

but returns

in the morning, her hair

a tangled mess,

her lipstick on her chin.

she cries and cries

to come back

in.

so i let her in.

i always let her in.

codependent to the bitter

end.