the lonely man wanted to love her

but because he was lonely

and penniless

she despised him

He had so much passion to give her

He grabbed on to her, and she screamed

He pleaded with her

“Don’t go!”

and when she disappeared

she wouldn’t return his messages

She was a woman with class, prospects

He wondered if it was due

to a flaw in himself

something he needed to fix

so, he set about doing

what he thought he should do

loving, whomever he could

smiling at stray cats

they came by and sat in his lap

golden tails, and mangy grey

wild, they let no other man touch them

He wanted to be civilized, but nobody would let him

So, he had to become stronger

like an ally cat—preying on fish heads in the moonlight

seeking redemption, not in a relationship, but something else

with no good faith—he had to think for himself

cursed by creativity

or was it the sins of society, that made-up lies, that became true

It’s not love, but what you can do

It’s not you, but how people see you

all that doesn’t matter, seems to matter, in society

and the ally cat, didn’t want that

he was a tiger in the jungle, not a house cat

bloody revenge was in his claws

but he couldn’t tear it down

it was too large

too solid

too dull and dead

to be killed.

Alive, he was

Fire,

in the corner of some garbage bin

Fire was enough

it was in his eyes

independence, love, and forbearance

in the face, of a faceless monster

society.