Who would I be without you
My self-abating goddess
Quiet sobs in the kitchen
Over undercooked stew.
Because to me you are perfect
You are spring, autumn,
Shade in the summer heat,
Winters protection.
But where were you?
Away in your mind on those sepia days,
Thoughts at the bar with him,
Lonely in the house alone.
Popped pills in the crowded basement,
Crowded with your grandmothers ghosts,
Locked in ritual self effacement,
A facade of all the things you held close.
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 3:20 PM UTC
Who would I be without you
My self-abating goddess
Quiet sobs in the kitchen
Over undercooked stew.
Because to me you are perfect
You are spring, autumn,
Shade in the summer heat,
Winters protection.
But where were you?
Away in your mind on those sepia days,
Thoughts at the bar with him,
Lonely in the house alone.
Popped pills in the crowded basement,
Crowded with your grandmothers ghosts,
Locked in ritual self effacement,
A facade of all the things you held close.
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