catastrophe

You’re floating. You’re floating like marshmallows on cold fruit punch. Fruit punch served at a wedding ceremony for Jason and Lucy. Lucy leaves him after 40 years of marriage and still closets a lesbian fantasy for her ex-husband’s elder sister Debbie. She’s been in love with Debbie for 39 years 11 months and 29 days. But I am sinking. I am sinking into an abyss of random spectrum of colours. Colours which you experience when you do weed. Colours that gradually melt together to give you a whole black mass of nothing. Only you can save me. Save me from this kamikaze of undesired and immense sadness. But you’re not. Not saving me. You’re just. Floating. Because you are selfish. And there is nothing I can do about it. Float away. I hope you float away far enough so that I won’t have the strength to look for you. I don’t want to see you. But I see you everyday. You don’t know it. But I see you everyday in a song. And I will try. Try to forget you. Please let me. Please.