Thunder erupts in this living room shaking the walls, sliding furniture, rattling my bones.
covering my ears will never deafen the sound,
it doesn’t matter because I refuse to listen anymore
I am gone, yet I remain, lost in the mire.
Mom, can you hear me?
you’ve been gone almost a year
but I really need you now more than ever
you are somewhere in the aether, where celestial bodies lie. that’s what they say anyway.
Mom, can you see me?
did you know I only see things in monochrome. a sort of veil slipped over the world and has refused to depart. leaving my lens a gray washed canvas.
I don’t dream anymore.
I feel dead sometimes.
Mom, do you still love me?
do you remember before you died how we made that pact, you know that one that time in your bathroom. between just you and I.
maybe you couldn’t keep your end?
maybe I just wasn’t worth it.
Mom, if your listening, if I never see you again, I want you to know that I will love you forever.