wrath, wrought
Judah, I talked to my sister
before you left
about how i thought that, even if i don’t want a big family
i was willing to consider it, for you
i talked about how much i wanted to escape into the world we created
together, and without ever finishing fleshing out Her character
to a little cottage in the forest near a river that i could follow to the sea
cozy but not crowded, a dog or two, a cat if we felt like it
five kids
a nice big kitchen and a nice big bathtub
But it’s looking more and more like that was something you never thought about with me,
maybe you never wanted to.
It’s looking like the aesthetic blog i started,
so i could mourn you without it being seen by anyone we know,
is one i will never show you, or mention, for fear you’ll find the posts i tagged for you
before you wrote back
to: Not Me
the comic i started to cope, and explore my abilities
laid stagnant for weeks when i found out you never wrote me back
and the knee i skinned while desperately trying to get away from the place i knew She would be at is almost healing
i’m still picking at the scab.
the spotify playlist, the prayers i sent out
prayers i still want there because Fuck
i love you so much and if you die before i get closure on this i will fuck with whatever contract needs made
to bring you back whole, just for a week, just to put an end
to all the things your stupid ass started
and didn’t finish.
the pages i pulled up
with verbena seeds
because soldiers should wear the verbain around their necks for safety in battle
that the conflict might pass over them like a wandering eye over an average sight
the tears i cried for you, judah
cry, cried, am crying
i dont know
maybe if you were here and i could just fuck you again i’d be over it