My cat accidentally scratched my wrist,
I would be lying if I said
I didn't wish it was deeper.

It reminded me of old wounds,
ones that never scarred
I wonder if there will come a time
when I wouldn't mind leaving a mark.

Don’t get me wrong⏤
the only reason my skin is clean
is because I’m afraid.

Afraid of being caught,
afraid of what they’d say
if they saw what I meant to do.

At least if it was the cat,
I could pretend it was nothing⏤
just a slip, a scratch,
not something I wished for.

At least when it’s the cat,
I can blame the claws,
not the longing in my chest.

I don’t know if I truly love cats
or
if I just love the physical reminders they left behind.