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

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