Between Bruises & Blooms

Apparently
the stars
had opinions.

Of course
they fucking did.

They always do.

Some dead cat
looks down
from the sky,

sends a dream,

drops a prophecy,

and suddenly
everyone is supposed
to accept
the suffering
that follows.

No questions.

No anger.

No

this is actually
a terrible idea.

Just destiny.

Just signs.

Just

this is the way
it has to be.

And somehow
four kits
losing their father,

then their mother,

then each other

became part
of some greater plan.

Wonderful.

Beautiful.

Very spiritual.

I hate it.

Because maybe
I am too human
for StarClan logic.

Maybe I care
too much
about the little things—

like children
being allowed
to stay together.

Like grief
not being treated
as some sacred test.

Like love
being worth
inconvenience.

So if StarClan
really looked down
at those kits
and decided

yes,

scatter them,

then fine.

Moth Flight
is not the only one
I am mad at.

The ancestors
can line up too.