I want to throw up for you, my love.
Look at what you've reduced me to.
The peaceful warmth makes me want to puke ;
The delightful ache turned to gut-wrenching pain,
And the poet is left alone above the lakes.
(this is my way of saying I'm gonna try to be more active on here bc I've just been ghost reading some stuff lately, march 2024 was one of the worst months of my life)
(also this thing was written in December)