Is this what the comedown of molly feels like?

Dad's birthday was this week.

His candles sit there,

Waiting to be snuffed.

But he's been gone since

Thursday, I think.

I don't even recall.

"Make a collage for him," Mom said.

The photos sit there,

Waiting to be used.

But the glue is stuck

Between my fingers and lashes,

Clumped in the canthi of my eyes.

Buttons glow from my view on the bed.

My deck sits there,

Waiting to be played.

But XLR cables have replaced my veins

And the waveform stole my heartbeat.

Meine Deutschen Freunde vermissen mich.

Die Sprache sitzt dort,

Und wartet zu sprechen.

Aber die Worte blieben in meinen Kampf

Und ich bin fertig.

"Saans lelo, Fari," whispered in my ear.

My lover sits there,

Waiting to be touched.

But the magnets in my palms

Seem to oppose everything these days.

"Come downstairs, we have dessert."

They all sit there,

waiting to be fed.

But my stomach might burst

If I open that door.

The candles are snuffed

And I cried peeling glue off my fingers.

At least my cables still work,

Aber die Satze hassen meinen Mund.

My family is hungry.

My lover is, too.

And yet there is nothing to do.

TLDR;

I think my heart is very angry with me and

Dad's been gone so much that Mom stopped writing it on the calendar.

I guess we've all been ignoring things.

31.7.26