At the Trough

I gorge myself
at the trough
it's like eating a tub of ice cream --
the rush
and the crash

the photos don't help
but I can't peel
my eyes
from their smiles
and their togetherness

as a voice
reminds me
how I always reached out before
and now it's their turn

but they have families
busier lives
than mine

my inbox groans
like an empty stomach
my phone sits
silent on the table
as I continue to scroll

shovel sweet spoonfuls
into my face
and swallow