I like to sit in her lap
and play games.
She strokes my fur with
her gentle fingers.
Sometimes I tease and
lick myself and pretend
I am too busy.
When our master comes home
he too likes to play.
He tosses me into the flower bed
with rough paws.
I feel my bones may break but
she placates him with a smile
while I hide away in the garden
chasing lizards and winged things.
I can see her kneel as he yanks her hair
and slaps the dewdrops from her face.
I don’t understand the games my people play.
When it’s done he washes the rust from
his nail beds, says he’s had a bad day.
Stop Domestic Violence
Photography by Heart