It’s 5AM

and you’re crying

(again).

 

You’ve climbed,

into my bed,

onto my chest.

You put that cute face in front of mine,

 

so close,

your whiskers poke

the inside of my nostrils.

 

So close,

and crying,

in your feline tones,

 

FEED ME.

NOW.

 

At your bidding,

I rise,

stumbling to the fridge,

eyes half closed.

 

I am awake,

because the cat

wants food.