I have a confession to make
One that you would expect to hear from the wrinkled
ancient old lady living just down the street
Dust shaking off her shoulders with every step
Swaying rhythmically in her creaky
wooden rocking chair for countless hours of the day

I am a cat lady

My three cats are my babies whom I swaddle in my love
I feed them daily their pellets of wild-salmon and rice
I hold them and hug them and massage their silky fur
I clean up their wet, soggy, fishy-smelling hairballs
And I answer their cries for sweet sweet sink water
At young hours of the morning and tired hours of the night

It’s not that I lack basic social skills and have no companions
Or hate leaving my house in fear of human interaction
I have a loving boyfriend and a handful of good friends
And I love stepping out of my front door and seeing the world
But love is not just something that can be given to people
Love is something that blossoms from any bond

My cats listen to my problems without talking back
Better than any boyfriend, girlfriend or therapist ever could
When I wake up I am greeted by cheers of good morning
We walk paw and foot together to tackle the day
They stick to my side like a static-filled balloon does to a wall
My love for them is always simmering in my sweltering heart

And after the battles of the day bring me to my bed
I collapse into it as if it’s a crib of cotton candy
And am accompanied by the presence of my furry friends
They welcome me warmly and tell me they love me
Reminding me that no matter now exasperating my day was
That they will always be there for me to shower down their love