#mournfullyyours

written during an ethically questionable lightning storm | recovered from a pile of letters you ignored | contents: abandonment, scientific delusion, avoidant parenting

victor, you really looked at your homemade creature and said: “not my problem.” and then ran away like you hadn’t just invented abandonment issues in human form.

you wanted the glory of creation but none of the accountability. you wanted to play god and then got surprised when your creation had feelings.

you didn’t raise a monster. you raised a mirror and flinched when it reflected you.

you wrote whole chapters about how hard this was for you. meanwhile, your creation was out here learning language and rejection at the same time.

you didn’t need a laboratory. you needed to apologize. and maybe some parenting books.

recorded in a haunted parlor at 2:22am | file recovered from under the floorboards of your unresolved grief | contents: romantic decay, ambient doom, weird vibes and weirder metaphors.

edgar, you didn’t write poetry. you wrote emotional taxidermy.

you fell in love and immediately imagined her dead just so you could write about how tragic it was.

every woman you loved became a ghost with perfect hair. you never let any of them live long enough to disappoint you.

you called it gothic. i call it projection.

you said nevermore, but you meant “i will absolutely spiral if she leaves me.”

your idea of romance was a damp room, a dead wife, and the sound of your own voice echoing through rot.