- Aug 24, 2022
- 413
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SONG INSPIRATION / hey mister by Poor man's poison
She was going to be cold, the snow on the ground so freezing to the touch it felt like a scraped blister. His paws, numb on the pavement as he scrabbles, claws against pebbled stone and shaking ravenously. In his jaws, cotton tickled his tongue as a twoleg tugs at her scarf. Screeching incoherently at him, and kicking at him with a heel barbed with a long weird stick. A deformed foot, greeting his ribs and head. She could lift him easily, break his body because compared to these beasts- a feline stood not the slightest chance. A twoleg is one hundred badgers.
She staggers though, Tommie saw his chance and rolled like an alligator in a swamp before tearing off down the street. Hard breaths drawn into his throat, he gasps around the scarf forced to spit it out as the adrenaline wore off and he could feel every curve of his rib that the twoleg had kicked. He flops onto his side and groans in angry agony as it shreds through his nerves and makes his hocks curl to his stomach.
" ah…. ah " he gasps and waits for the receding pain. Finally it dulls, enough for him to get back on his feet and gather up the fruit of his efforts.
His body is small, muscle too firm for his age but living on the streets as a miniature thug did that. Painting a picture of a dirt covered kit with smog in the lungs and bleak outlook. He turned eight moons today, it meant nothing. Life didn’t mean shit with a hungry belly and criminal record. Tommie today though, was doing something selfless.
A young mom and kits, a cardboard box dilapidated with snowfall was their home. Tommie had heard crying, a mother’s hushing soft voice- a family shivering and losing hope with every breath.
An orphan, nurtured by thy self and thy own action he was. Feels sympathy for the first time in a blackening heart, a need to help. The grimy kid returns, a warm thick scarf in his muzzle. “ this… is for me?… thank you… thank you so much little guy…” the mother takes scoops it into her little home with a smile warm enough to light a hearth for the alley they lived. Tommie’s face scrunches up and he looks away. Never having done a good deed in his eight months plaguing the twolegplace. “ you … where’s your mama?… do you have a home? ” she tries to reach out and touch him with a paw but he flinches back with a show of his teeth. " yeah " he lies and trots away.
He can’t face the truth or what it meant to be what he was. He clung to words that string together into something to live by. One of his favorites? if the path is easy, you’re going the wrong way. Life was tough, but Tommie swore he’d be tougher.
The kid crawls into the crushed up rotted monster he called home. All his stolen prizes littered on torn leather seats. Gooplie, his little stuffed animal friend waiting for him patently. A purr rattles his throat as he cuddles the soft spider thing that was just about as muddy and gross as himself. His side ached, his eyes beaded with tears but he chalked it up to the cold weather. Smiling a childish smile as he cuddles Gooplie closer." you’re so funny " he giggles before falling asleep. Had Gooplie told a joke through the cotton from a sewn mouth?
