A Mouse is brave

Mordecai’s whiskers twitched. It wasn’t the falling snow that sent a shiver down his spine, though its soft, cold touch certainly did not help. The grey owl was massive. A behemoth of beak, talons and feathers. It met him upon the snowy field; there was no place for him to hide.

The owl hooted, a low rumble from the depths of its bowels. A challenge; it knew the old ways. Small as his foe was -mere prey, some would mock-, the owl granted him this. Whether for its own amusement, or out of genuine respect for standing against it.

Mordecai’s cape flapped back and fro, snapping behind his back. His sword had not been baptized. “Naked steel”, Roderick once called it. Part jest, part truth. He was unproven.

Now, he faced death. His paw’s grip tightened around the handle of the sword to ground himself. The trembling subsided for a bit. Smoke billowed out of his mouth with each breath, would these be his last? It didn’t matter. A challenge had been issued; he raised the handle and pressed it gently over his furry forehead. “To the death, then.”



A neverending scar
that circles your body
this cocoon of regret
squeezes you tight
until you can’t speak

there’s a flavor in the pain
you can’t quite relinquish it

this scar won’t pick itself
wasting your mind away
with grey thoughts
so color it red again.

New Toilet

My insides and outsides
My right sides and left sides
My ups and my downs
Everywhere I walk about
Makes no sense to step into nonsense
Maybe I’ll wait it out for it to pass
Pass the salt electric buzzer
Skin grafts shape this new identity
Can’t shed layers like parmesan cheese
Crumble feta dreams and mix with brie
It’s all a convo and platter of made up bits
That I keep in my pocket as I dance down the street
Just because you see me doesn’t mean I’m here
Here I am gone today bye tomorrow.