If I’m half asleep,
my pillows feel like your doughy chest,
that could have felt firmer,
had you smashed the gym,
instead of my sister.
That was petty.
I’m sorry.
I know.
You know,
it would be easier if you were dead,
no offence.
At least then I could pretend,
you meant to call, but couldn’t.
You’re sorry.
I Know.
You know,
by the way,
day by day, it gets easier.
I’ve forgotten who you were,
and sculpted a softer, safer you,
that I miss more,
than I ever loved your reality.
You know?
You know.
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Your body, and the hopefully happy adventures you can have
I am the worst, but…
Sincerely, Jennifer x 