• celestinelefae 5w

    SubDrop

    You blithely mention, 
    Casually question in texted coolness
    how my 'sweet self is doing'



    (it ain't pretty, when the pretty leaves you -
    With no place to go...)

    My heart stopped
    At this, and all that followed
    I'd given what we were up for dead
    Was already mourning, in fact: in the shitty way I'm known for, and more. forgive me.
    Rounds of Whiskey soaked broken poetry
    Filling my emptiness with an overload of calories consumed without care to think about 
    The weight that will hurt my frame to carry
    I am an emotional eater, from before I was 'thicc & curvy' - 
    cures not the self loathing of my body as it is, now


    (...wait...they don't love you, like I love you,
    ...wait...) 
    My relief, comparable to when my daughter at eight years old, had gone missing for hours, when the police car pulled up outside with her confused face in the backseat
    (As a father, I know you'll understand this, better than anything else in the world)
    I know now, that when you disappear 
    You'll return to me
    (I touch the place, where I'd find your face...)
    I'm doing what I can to remain focused
    This isn't easy
    Your silent distance is distracting
    But I'd rather this
    Than nothing at all
    Such dreams fill up my nights 
    (Chrome buttons, buckles, leather surfaces....)
    Waking  brings me 
    Fresh hope that today your ISH has finally relented
    The tide of torments receed at last
    Come back 
    When you can
    Thanksgiving is too long to go
    Without speaking 
    ©celestinelefae