Indigo

It’s late, and you deserve a longer attention span than this weakened, worn-out fist beating against the keyboard. You deserve elegance, my tender, little princess. You don’t deserve the bitterness that the midnight hour brings, once all the bells have tolled away I hear the angels sing your name I hear the angels sing. And who’s to blame is not important, though I wish I had a compass that would tell me where to point the finger for the stinger driven through my heart, the splinter hidden in my weary thoughts reminds me of the thorn caught in the lion’s paw. And I loved your little pawsies, with their little clawsies, the bad breath in your jawsies, my killer sharkface girl. My life lies in stark contrast from what’s before to what lies after you came and went and made me wish more anger had been laughter. It was too early, you deserved a longer life than this, but who am I to say? I’m just a man who saw a noble heart beneath the fur and claws my snuggly, fuzzy pillow, my Indy kitty in the cracker box Maybe you had lasting pain, or maybe you were torn in two by the way I drifted back and forth between loving and denying you my lap, my hands, my attention span caught up in less important things, like games, the TV, no compassion for the thorn caught in your lion’s paw that could not be removed. I don’t regret the time we had, I just wish I’d been a better dad and taken every chance I had to show you that I loved you. I pray that your next life has far more gold and far less blue. Indigo, I will remember you as the one who taught me to love without rage to use the squirt bottle, or the cage and not the hand of stupid mindless violence. You taught me to use a gentle touch, and your death made me apply it. The house is quiet without your little lion’s roar. And with the Lion King towel inside it, My gym bag still sits in the corner. You were the leader of the pride as far as I’m concerned. I’m sure you still play with milk rings and leis if you’re a cat again, or back on Earth and back with a family that loves you as much as your mommy and daddy did. You were our first kid. You did everything right, and though you lived a short life you made such a big difference in mine. It’s late, and you deserve a better elegy than this weakened, worn-out kiss blown on the wind. But it’s all that I can give. To Indigo: my fuzzy pillow, my snuggle bear, my friend.