Unsure of Title and Much More – A Poem

I’ve mentioned before that I have a sister who hates me. I don’t really know why. She honestly thinks I’m a demon. No, seriously. I can’t make this stuff up. Me and my son are evil demons according to her. We are just a house full of demons over here.

My sweet girl, Fuzzy

She had my mum babysit her doggie that is a small Pom like my baby over there, Fuzzy. I love her little doggie; it reminds me of Fuzzy. I still cry when I think of losing my baby. It’s been over three years since she passed. I’ve never hurt an animal. I don’t even believe in spanking kids.

Anyway, she asked my mum to babysit and then when the doggie (who is very, very old) went back after only spending one night, she said we had beaten the dog. She said I specifically kicked and beat it because I’m a demon. She could just tell… because… I’m a demon and evil.

(Photo by Hyoung Chang/The Denver Post via Getty Images)

This is the same sister that – no lie – thinks the earth is flat. And, is a devout Christian that loves Jesus.

She was driving away when I came back from work. I was so tired. We just had a major snowstorm and I had to shovel our drive, walkways and because the truck that cleans off the street was late, and I had to get to work, I also had to shovel, by hand, over a foot of snow from our street just so I could make it to work to deposit money so we could get payroll for everyone.

I was, needless to say, sore and tired.

I stepped out of the car, ready to grab the few groceries out of the back when she rolled down the window of her vehicle. I thought maybe I could just wave a quick “hi” and we could just be sisters again.

Instead, I heard laughing and she held her hand out the door to flip me the bird, as she drove away. I’m not sure if she called me “c***” this time. She has a few other times, screaming obscenities at me as she drove away.

My demon son (acts more like an angel) being silly with a latte

Now, I know I shouldn’t let this get to me. It really doesn’t matter. But for some reason it really hurt me. Deep down, it made me cry. Its so silly. I really shouldn’t let things get to me.

I can’t reason the hate. I can’t make sense of her cruel commentary that she says about me all over Facebook. I haven’t been on Facebook for years. I’m sure her myriad thousands of followers believe she has a demonic sister living next door. I only know because my mum tells me about it; she is on that site quite a bit.

I honestly have no idea where this thought of me and my son being demons came from. I hadn’t really ever had a relationship with this sister. She’s almost eight years younger and I left home at 17, married, had children, worked, and lived my life in another state.

I honestly hadn’t had much contact with this sister in over 35 years. It wasn’t like my older sister who I am very close to, or my little brother, who bought me a little car to drive to a job since I lost everything. She was born much later and just has made up this narrative that I came here and brought evil… or something?

I mean, a lot of bad things have started happening to her. I think that’s called karma. A random shelf fell on her, breaking her foot that still keeps her limping. She’s gotten three tickets for speeding. She has these incredible migraines that has taken her to the hospital a few times. She’s a bit of a mess and she blames me.

I really don’t get it.

My little Tater Tot; he’s such a sweet boy

Anyway… I wrote this poem as my mum’s cat, the fat orange one, Tater was constantly crying at the back door this evening. He’s become my cat. He is always around me, sitting on the desk as I work and write. He sleeps on my bed every night. He just likes me. I truly love this little guy, too. (In fact, he’s sleeping on the bed next to me right now as I write.)

On a side note: he is the cat the she was trying to throw things at, and made cry, when she broke into my mum’s home last year. She hates cats. I think she thinks they are evil too. In fact, when Tater hears her voice next door he sprints back into the house.

I guess this poem is my settled resolve that this is just how it is right now. I’m okay. Because I know who I am. And I am pretty happy right now, living with my mum’s fat orange cat, surrounded by those who do love me.

My Fat Orange Cat

Something evil resides next door

I hear it in the wind

In the creaks of the floor

Something evil lurks at the corner

It spies, it cries

My name of another

The childhood that led to this

The teenager of wanton bliss

The young adult I’d thought I’d miss

Growing older to functional bliss

Now I am old and still

Unsure of this… paranormal sense

Something evil speaks next door

My poor orange cat meows against

The crazed words and quieted screams

Behind the door as it pleads

It begs, “Let me in”

“Why yes, I do mean you harm,” with an evilly grin

Its all insinuate

The lifelong hate

I’ve considered by this point

And slowly back away

Pick up my fat orange cat that purrs

He wants to scratch that itch

Understandably so

I’d allow if I thought he could scratch it away

I’m sure you won’t mind

Don’t be alarmed

Insanity only lasts a moment

Death is much longer

Close the curtain

Feed the cat

Remove the welcome

From the mat

And then, go back to bed

In the morning I’ll wake to dread

Something evil lives next door

Cruelty and hate I’ve never faced

I wonder at times why is this life

So, encumbered by nonsensical lies

A narrative of an unhinged mind

And reality says, “Why try?”

I really must live

My very own life

My fat orange cat rumbles

Cuddles and nudges into my side

This is truly reality

And what it means to live a life

I think it needs a bit of work. I don’t truly like the ending. But, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you can live without crazy relatives. May you find what you seek and search for in this life.

Hi and love you, Gracie! 🙂 ❤

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