Long Over a Decade
It's days like this where I listen to sad songs about fathers abandoning their children and kneel on the big chair by the window, and look outside like I'm seven years old.
I didn't like seven years old.
I hated the first day of it.
I cried all of April twenty-forth that year.
I knelt on the big chair by the front window and felt the wind that I could see the trees felt.
The swayed and shimmered as if they could hear the music too.
Why didn't I sway and shimmer when the wind hit me?
I only got cold and determined.
Seven was the last time I thought that thought until now.
It took me long over a decade to answer that question.
I wish it was something lyrical, majestic, and deep.
It's not.
It's just science.
Sometimes science is sadder than fathers abandoning their children.

I was supposed to unpack all this stuff a few days ago.
But all I can manage to do is sleep and drink
And connect the dots that your actions left on my thighs.
Why did you leave me all these tally marks, anyway?

Some days I binge
And somedays I starve.
And now I'm losing weight again.
But of course I'm not happy.
Ten more punds then maybe.
Twenty more pounds then maybe.
I never knew the taste of beauty
Was *****.