Father.

entry picture

This make-believe story I predicted in my head,

To pieces upon the ground does it fall.

A happiness once experienced -

A security long gone,

And a father I had imagined -

Now a memory in which I had created.

 

But, the hurt inside is real -

All torn up, how does my heart continue to beat?

A trauma of the past -

Why must I remember what I wish not to?

 

I created the perfect life in my head,

I planned, and I planned it well.

Used up everything in me,

To become a girl cherished

By a happy family,

A happy father and a happy mother -

To pieces upon the ground,

Does this make-believe story crash.

abusivealcoholiccancerdeathFatherloss

◄ That Day.

Purgatory ►

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