I have long periodic dips in the asexual world and I feel like I’m there now so whelp
this isn’t finished yet but I’m falling asleep trying to write it
she’s switched it off again,
stone cold stuck and stayed,
deader than a frayed bunch
of wires. no warning signs,
no courtesy notices, no letters
of intent or lack thereof, no
post-it notes left to remind
us or tell us don’t wait up,
signed with two kisses. it’s
not like she’ll be missed
terribly much, too fussy and
insistent on her being heard
and answered for and indulged
like she’s the only one of us
who lives for bliss and craves
whole-hearted love.
too much trouble too much
devastation, worlds ended,
hearts broken like a child
disappointed on a playdate.
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