Poetry

Favorite Drink 

I taste the rhubarb
In your strawberry juice.
My brows frown,
My nose wrinkles.
Too sour for me,
But you smile and
insist it’s always sweet.

Ragdoll

Alaska meows loudly
When footsteps cross the floor.
Her kittens sprint to her side,
She arches her back, tail high.
Fur warm and white blankets them all.
She hisses, claws pressing in.
I freeze and she looks at me,
Ready to strike,
If I come too near.

False Positive

Millions count down for my arrival,
In every language across the world.
They watch me with their rose-colored glasses,
Or maybe not.

I hate being the first in the line of time,
As they make pledges they rarely keep.
I’m tired of the future faking and collecting
The promise rings they once gave me.

Can someone rewrite the prophecy,
Save me from this calvary,
And undo my destiny?