‘The Silence of my Hellcat’ by Jenny Robb One night, tired of TV, men and life,I will summon my inner cat.In bed, the room won’t seem dark.I’ll sleep lightly, disturbed by scratches in the skirting, rustling leaves. Next morning, porridge won’t appeal. I’ll open a tin of sardines,lick it clean of silver-flecked oil. In the mirror, my hazel eyes will green. I’ll shop at dawn and dusk,devour raw chicken and mackerel.My coccyx will itch and a black tail tip twitch. I’ll cut holes in my clothesand wear baggy coats. I’ll fear water but no longer careabout encroaching seas.Embracing my black fur pelt,I’ll learn to let out darkness. I’ll avoid the barbed dicks of Tomswith agile twists and turnsand become my familiar, practise killing,pounce from four legs. Abandoning my houseI won’t know life is short. Will not speak of extinction.Will not speak at all. I will lick and relish the taste of blood. Meet the Poet Jenny, from Liverpool, is published in both online and print magazines and poetry anthologies. 2021 publications include Dream Catcher, Prole, Ink Sweat and Tears, Orbis, The Dawntreader and The Lighthouse Journal. Her debut pamphlet, The Doll’s Hospital will be published by Yaffle Press soon. She tweets at @jirobb . Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Published by fragmentedvoices A small, independent press based in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, UK, and Prague, the Czech Republic View all posts by fragmentedvoices