My Angry Cat

You're repeating yourself for the twentieth time. Is there another man in my life? Yes. Yes. What did you think? Even graveyards have visitors. There are, my dear sir, a lot of men out there, and no garden is ever devoid of birds. You're just an experience I had, and here I am, tired and bored from this experience, out from under your spell. I'm cured of all my weakness and gullibility. Niceties do, after all, always end. You love me! There you go again, dredging up all that ancient history. And since when did you ever show the slightest interest in me outside the contour of my hips? Where does this sudden gush of love come from? I was never anything more than a forsaken chair among your expensive furniture, a garden you chose to raze without shame or repentance. Why are you staring at my breasts as if you owned them? And why do you weep as if you stood before a lost kingdom? Your glorious kingdom, dear sir, has just crumbled. There. I've settled my score in an instant. You tell me now who's losing the game. I opened myself to you like the Garden of Eden, gave you all the sweet fruit and green grass you desired. Today I offer you neither heaven nor hell. This is what you get for acting the ungrateful. You faithless. If you'd only treated me like a human being - just once - this other man wouldn't exist.