Between Bruises & Blooms

I know
what the story
wanted me to understand.

She was grieving.

Overwhelmed.

Young.

Broken open
by losing Micah
and left staring
at four tiny lives
who needed pieces of her
she did not know
how to give.

I understand
all of that.

I do.

And I am still angry.

Because those kits
lost him too.

They lost their father
before they ever
got enough of him,

and then their mother
looked at the weight
of loving them

and decided
she could not carry it.

Maybe that makes me
unfair.

Maybe motherhood
has made certain stories
impossible
for me to read gently.

Because I know
what it is
to be overwhelmed.

To be touched out.

Exhausted.

Grieving.

To want
five fucking minutes
where nobody
needs anything.

I know what it is
to feel like
there is not enough
of me
to go around.

And still—

my babies
would have to pry
themselves
from my bones.

So when Moth Flight
gave hers away,

I did not see
some noble sacrifice.

I saw children
being asked
to understand
an adult's pain.

I saw four little lives
divided
because their mother
could not imagine
another way.

And yes,

I know
it is fictional.

I know
they are cats.

I know
I probably
should have moved on
several books ago.

I have not.

Because somewhere
between the prophecy
and the grief
and StarClan
making everything
more complicated
than necessary,

Moth Flight
did the one thing
I cannot make
my heart forgive.

She left.

And apparently

that is where
my sympathy
runs out.