Work Text:
Oh Charlie,
My cup has not runneth over, my cup has shattered- Into narrow fragments. Shards of glass rip through flesh as I try to find reasons to grip onto reality and not onto your dead body. Pieces of your soul pierce the heavens as I'm left collecting myself. I'm scrambling to grasp your spirit- to caress the memories of what once was.
Please, come home.
Moments ago, it was you, who anointed my head with oil. You healed the creaking, rotten shelter of mine- Mentally and physically refreshing my pale, pink skin in Your name. The significance in which the situation was my fault has me on my knees staring at what isn't you.
What isn't you?
What is you.
My damp work jeans covered in thick bloody snow, clutching your organs like my childhood teddy bear. You kept the evil at bay, if only I could have done that for you. I have established my faith in the way your body moves with mine; The way you were intertwined between my fingers and bed sheets. I have seen parts of you now I've never wanted to see. Exploring you and your psyche gave me a sense of corporeal property. The skeletons and veins are not mine to take. You're physical worth, splattered and stuck between tree limbs- my limbs. Our love now full of mercury, how can we let this go?
When are you coming home?
Ha, this argument existed in my mind, and nothing more… Right, Charlie? You're here. You've been elaborating on escaping Hell for decades- Did you run into a light without me? Or because of me? The stained axe is sharp against my voice- Please, let it cut through to you.
Come on, I'm not laughing, Charlie. Give me one more chance to prove myself I'm worthy of your existence- My love extends beyond the heavens; my faithfulness reaches to the skies-
Where are you?
Can you feel me?
Please, are you coming home?