THE PAST.

Do you know the innocent bear?
She never opens up.
Yes, a big, soft, brown bear, skin tender under thick brown fur.
That skin’s so delicate, so fun to poke at!
That bear has to bear all the potential of a new, inky pen
and a clean, white paper.

It’s sat in the middle of a sea of snowy mice that
move as one, oh, and multiply so quickly!

Some born white, some followed the tide,
their harassing squeaks alone are nothing--
but as one cause cacophany and entropy.

they’re too overwhelmiiiiiiiiiing i can’t breathe…..

though strong outside, so strong, the bear
couldn’t bear the consequence of swatting them away,
and it left the hunting weapons spilling,
audibly, excruciatingly, stop talking about her!

do the teeth of that beast still haunt you? does the bipolarity still confuse you?
do you still, so pathetically, crawl back? is your self worth seriously so low that you still love and even miss that thing with so much of your being? honestly, you’re so weak.

whispers as memories of abuse and warmth and fun
fall like rain
flooding the bear’s eyes

THE FUTURE

but the bear reminds itself, thinking back
that its old self will someday meet
the brash fox that was transformed from a mouse, so self-loathing and gorgeous,
and the excitable wolf pup, sticking like an abused dog that remains loyal,
these two know that they went from youth to saviors in only one coincidental meeting

(if not?)

and the greatest chance of all,
the quiet cat perched atop the bear’s head
purring in that place, so passive
but separated all too often
it hates itself the most, but itself is the most be(ar)loved

(if i hadn’t met you? was i born to?)