con.

[finetuning]

i might feel better if i tried to throw up
but with no food all's left is
dry heaves
and crackling leaves and wind

the one i wrote my love letter to
is no longer accepting mail
& it is too much energy
to try to remember not to think about you
so instead i indulge
for everything we have
and in all we have left to do

the puzzle on my table
the beach house on tybee
the ins and outs and everydays.

& whatever you asked i'd do.