threatening rain

I feel like a hollowed-out shell.

I keep thinking of how it was after Mom died. How I tried to braid the loose ends together in her absence, keeping my father and I afloat. I felt like he was a sinking ship and I was onboard.

I would attempt to get groceries and I’d end up drinking my dinner instead.

Last night I dreamt about ordering wine again. Carafes full of Pinot Noir. I wanted to drown in it.

The apartment today is sullen. In the east, it keeps threatening a squall, but it never comes to pass. Always a burgeoning storm. I wish it would rain, maybe I could cry then.

My jeans look looser once more, despite my attempts to gain weight, I never seem to put or keep any on. I’m sure the Naltrexone doesn’t help much.

I might buy that copy of the Leonard Cohen poetry collection I’ve been coveting. Nothing seems to fill me up.