We Need More Sugar

I am not a poet.

 

How fucking exhausting it is

to think of a metaphor or

some other creative way

to say that he killed himself

 

No, I’m doing okay

Please don’t worry!

Yes I’m fine, how have you been?

It was just a big shock, that’s all

I swear I’m fine

 

I don’t have time for this

The cat is clawing the sofa

My son’s shoe is on backwards

This song brings me back

I think I’m crying

The cheerios are stuck to the carpet

 

We ran out of sugar

I remember his sweet tooth

and his bottle of antidepressants

at the bottom of the toilet

I remember his kind, high-pitched laugh

And the way he loved

 

And the way he loved too much

Like I was the last sweet thing left on Earth

And he was insatiable

And I could never be enough

 

And how now that I think about it

maybe it wasn’t actually love

as much as his dying, desperate need

To find someone to fill a pair of shoes

that were One Size Fits No One

 

My son started saying a real “I love you”

And it rings a sweeter sound

than any songbird could compose

 

And my love places a kiss

so tenderly on the top of my head

that it fills me with a warmth to last me

for a thousand cold winters

 

I hope you find warmth wherever you are.

 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/yvdkc3/the_old_the_true/iwds97d/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/yv84ki/17/iwdu10i/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3