Dear Mice In My Attic

Photo by Yunu Dinata on Unsplash

August 28, 2019

I feared this day would come. I’ve slept peacefully here since forever.

The morning I hear you fuckers gnawing away, “what is that?” I ask self.

Denial is mother’s fucker—because I first saw your cousin run beneath my deck out front earlier this summer. Assuming you were bypassing properties, no wonder the stray cats keep lighting up my motion sensor lights at 4AM. Maybe you came from the neighbor? Did you breed on my property and now labor awkwardly? My home is clean, organized, and nothing like my neighbor’s.

Here at Dekum’s Blue, we stay clean to inspire the reading few. It’s frustrating to hear scratching, and you all in my walls running through. I saw you face to face, and thought how innocent a cute face? Little one running from the prey of your space. I can’t let you live here. I run this place.

For now, keep running. I’m sure the insulated attic above me is warm, cozy, and plenty of wood beams for you to chew on. Winter’s coming so don’t fuck with my furnace. Chew through my wires, I’ll spray you a flat tire. You’ll be back outside with the felines who ain’t tired.

Although I first thought a rat, the running on my rooftop must’ve been the black stray cat. This morning, however, I met your scout. I stared him dead in the eye, and right beside my gate I said, “you’re cute, but in my home you still must die.”

Little brown mice you run and go.

Want a chance to breathe what we foe?

Take away my peace of ease.

The same air we forget to breathe.

Maybe one, maybe two.

But for my sanity I must kill you.


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