every kitten is a reason to smile
(and other slogans they tattooed in the nursery)
purr loud enough and the grief won’t hear you.
curl tighter and no one sees the claws.
soft things are easier to sell.
and so,
we are kittens now.
they whisper:
"you are loved. you are safe. you are worthy."
as they lift the scalpel.
pink noses. plush pads.
we are born in boxes lined with velvet lies.
and every day,
a new filter for the feed:
✨ today I choose joy ✨
(we chose nothing. we were bred for it.)
a hundred paws pressed to the screen
asking if it’s okay to stop breathing yet—
but no:
grit your whiskers, fluff your soul.
affirmations arrive like wet food,
clocked and cloying,
smelling of something once alive.
we knead the blankets of borrowed mantras.
"you’ve got this."
"you’re enough."
"just keep going."
but no one says where.
and the darkest kitten,
the one that never meowed,
sleeps curled around the truth:
some days are not for surviving.
some days are for remembering
we were wild once,
with teeth.
Art of FACELESS | Instagram | Linktree
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![Dark Kittens [an analysis]](/content/images/size/w600/2025/10/photo-1607623488989-d22660f2cc17.jpeg)
