Please… Don’t Hurt Me. I Have No Voice, No Home, and No One Left to Protect Me
I Was Born… But Never Truly Welcomed
I don’t remember the day I was born.
I only remember the cold.
A dark corner.
Broken walls.
The smell of rain, dust, and hunger.
My mother wrapped her fragile body around me and my siblings, shielding us from the freezing wind with the little warmth she had left.
Back then, I thought…
As long as I had my mother, I would be safe.
I was wrong.
The Day I Learned That Not All Humans Are Kind
When I first learned how to walk…
How to chase falling leaves…
How to curiously follow the sound of human footsteps…
I also learned what pain feels like.
“Get away!”
A scream.
A kick.
My tiny body flew across the hard concrete.
I didn’t understand.
What did I do wrong?
I only wanted to get closer…
To be touched…
To feel loved like the cats I saw through warm glass windows.
But maybe…
Stray cats like me are not allowed to dream.
The Day My Mother Never Came Back
One morning…
She left to find food.
I waited.
From sunrise…
To sunset…
To the cold rain of the night.
I kept waiting.
But she never came back.
That was the day I learned what true hunger felt like.
What loneliness felt like.
What it means to call for someone… and hear nothing in return.
That day…
I stopped being a kitten.
I became a survivor.
Every New Day Became a Fight to Stay Alive
I ate scraps from the streets.
Drank rainwater from rusty cans.
Slept under cars, inside broken boxes, or anywhere people wouldn’t chase me away.
Some days, dogs chased me.
Some days, people threw stones at me.
Some days, I was injured…
But I kept walking.
Because if I stopped…
I might never wake up again.
The Hardest Thing Isn’t Hunger… It’s Being Invisible
Sometimes I sit quietly on the sidewalk…
Watching other cats being carried in warm arms.
Hearing them called by their names.
Seeing them loved like family.
And me?
I have no name.
No home.
No one waiting for me.
Hundreds of people pass by me every day.
But not one stops to ask:
“Hey little one… are you okay?”
If You Ever See Me… Please Don’t Hurt Me
I cannot speak.
I cannot scream for help.
I cannot tell anyone who hurt me…
Or how many nights I cried in silence.
But if you look into my eyes long enough…
Maybe you’ll understand.
I’m not asking for much.
Just…
A gentle look.
A little food.
A warm corner.
Or at least…
Please… don’t hurt me anymore.
