The room is dark
But even though
The cat hates you
She pretends
You aren’t drunk
For as long as you
Are holding
The plastic spoon
You use to scoop
Her food
The room is dark
But even though
The cat hates you
She pretends
You aren’t drunk
For as long as you
Are holding
The plastic spoon
You use to scoop
Her food
hijacked amygdala 
That is one smart cat. I used to hate how my cat looked at me when I was in a weird mood.
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Clever puss. 🙂
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The plastic spoon–the fact that it is plastic–is perfect. Something about that detail gives this poem an extra dig.
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Nice!
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Fickle fucks. But aren’t we all, deep down.
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