The Unclenched

It was many a year ago, when I grew up with my La Chat. We spared no bonjour, and never said adieu. She was a child, and I was a child. In a land torn apart by war, they were times that were hard to ignore. Yet for my little darling La Chat, there was only the dance till death.

At nights I dream dreams of my La Chat. I dream dreams of a time when we could still time, being nothing but cats. Instead of I experience experiences experiencing the darkest dreams on cannot ignore. And at night I long for her smile, as if we had seen each other in a while. And long for her embrace, to be kissed by her face. To peck each other on the cheek. Yet for the Chats, there was no more between us and the damned. For me, there was only the death of cats. In my dreams I dream dreams that is alive, where she was no taken from me by a knife. I would give my life, to be with her. Yet here I am, unable to close my eyes.

At night I travel the town, I do not try to kill myself. But I don't try to prevent it, as I dream dreams of a time when I can be no more. I dream dreams of that copulations and amour between her and I, as I unable to grasp that she is gone. I feel the cold touch of her hand, as I am pulled away from oncoming traffic. And so in those mean streets I had developed a name for myself. They called me suicide cat. I at times visit her grave, and wish things had been different between her and I. Perhaps that is why I had chosen to disdain the French. For they had taken my bride.

People said that I looked pale, and that I did not look well. And at times I was sent home early despite being insistent on teaching, and I would get temporarily payed leave. All to visit my bride. Because for me, there was only her and I. And between her and I, there was nothing but death. At the diners people avoid me, and I would avoid me if I were someone else. People wonder what the stink is that I carry around. It is nothing but hair lock of hair, that I take with me everywhere. I trash to wash the stink away, yet nothing could wash away the particular smell. People would wish me well to my face, and then barf behind my back, and some would not even be so socially conscious. For me, there was nothing but death.

And I longed for the embrace of her cold hands.

As I am gnawed by her apparently unclench-able teeth.


At times my life feels like nothing but a torturous dream. For me at times it feels as if my reality has been torn at the seam. Yet for me, I simply teach the language that I can. And some Bonjour to a new world. A world where cats and humans can live side by side, as I dream my final dreams.

Then say goodnight.

Instead I found someone I liked, so I tried to wash up. I stopped visiting my sister, told her that it will be a long while before I see her.

I found solace in her death.

I hope the new girl likes me.

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