𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

ʚ𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕ɞ

To Y/n:
        Can I come over? I bought brownies.

delivered 4 hours ago...

delivered 6 hours ago..

delivered 9 hours ago..

I never had a father well everyone has one technically. But physically, that sorry excuse for a man is nothing more than blood, his may run through my veins but that is the only factor linking l me to him.

I was a mere toddler when he left, all I was to him was an unwanted consequence of a drunk mistake, a regretful lapse of judgement on his l part. So he tossed me aside without a care in the world, unaware that his action, his purely selfish action would cross my mind everyday, even if the thought of me was simply something funny to look
back on and laugh for him. But abandonment isn't funny.

It isn't a joke.

There's no fucking punchline.

Just a kid, sat by the window wondering what he did wrong and why he wasn't enough.

I don't know why 2 years was his cut off point. He consumed my formative years with the normality of his presence, buying me toys and just simply being there. Only to leave me in his absence, with no word of an apology, no sense of regret, just a glance over his shoulder before walking out the door and walking out of my life.

I was left with my mother. I had no complaints, she cared for me with great tenderness, like I was the only thing that mattered.

That was until getting high became higher on her priority list.

And then getting drunk.

And then promiscuity.

And then came the cigarettes.

She never returned to the woman she once was.

She too abandoned me, yet her abandonment hurt worse because, she was still there, she just wasn't there for me.

Each day I awoke wondering what I'd be faced with. Would it be the familiar stench of intoxication drafting through the air, decorating the house in shattered glass and forgotten spills?

Maybe it would be the empty baggies all over the room, their contents half inhaled, half still smothered across the kitchen counter. Or maybe, if I was really unlucky, it would be her company from the previous night. Never the same man of course, but a man nonetheless. All equipped with the same hands they used to touch me in places no child should ever be touched.

Unapologetically grasping at my body like their life depended on it, like my body was theirs for the taking, theirs for the using.

Theirs for their pleasure.