There are other ways for people to fall apart

That does not end up with your father killing himself.

and decades later, somewhere in Munich,

 

A woman leaves a hundred angry voicemails

 

and starts to hypothesise about how self-inflicted abuse

 

is just a desperate annotation of self-love.

​

When he chooses not to reply to them,

 

She weighs her chances of ever getting a reply against
 

Tired, angsty teenage daffodils who only rant about

 

How the only valid definition of loneliness

Available on the internet, is of a house with 2 windows filled with

 

People who all want to die, but
 

in reality, just want to wake up to warmer hands

 

and not collapse every time someone
 

Mentions how they might forgive them for regretting

All those whom they have ever loved.

The conclusion of her hypothesis makes her nauseous

 

and the daffodils are all cowards and
 

They can go fuck themselves.

in about a month, he would return to the voicemails with ignorant replies

 

About how he is driving away with someone new who ceases

 

His hands like a prayer, and how they intend on

Robbing an antique store next.

 

Instead, in a few hours, due to being intoxicated on
 

Self-deprivation, she will try to choke him, but

 

Give up in the middle to talk about

 

How she has uncomfortably lingered around strangers’ doors and whispered:

 

“he is just clumsy, and how he keeps breaking and re-breaking

 

my heart over pretty fragile little objects, and how stupid
 

she feels for cradling his selfish craving for tender moments

 

where she pretends to
 

care about his resentments with all of his eventualities.”

The replies she gets from the strangers

 

Will make her want to reconsider redefining

 

Loneliness as a house with more
 

Windows and with more forgiving people,

 

and how, in time, grieving for him will make her
 

Euphoric, and that the daffodils will soon kill themselves.

How the strangers will play saxophones at their funerals,

 

and soon enough, she will let go of her
 

Prayer, realising maybe everyone, for the most part,

 

Has always been afraid of water.