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Usernametheblueguns
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I write and hope my words have the power to save future children. To remind them that most broken homes were built inside a solid foundation.
That somewhere between our prayers and screams, the loneliness becomes our only friend.
And so I began to write. To escape the reality of my pain, I formed these words.
Words that I would only realize later in my twenties, would save my life.
−60° C
Mar 28, 2019 5 years agoDaddy, come home I know this house is getting real cold. Mommy, please say something Can you watch me grow while strapped in your seat? Daddy, I'm sorry You are God himself no Clark Kent compares This house is freezing up, yet you've found strength, always been right there Mommy, do you hear me cry myself to sleep as you lay in bed, shaking through those hospital sheets? Daddy, I know you are getting tired But I'll pick you up and take the title, I'll keep my parents safe forever I'll fight this never ending battle Mommy, Do you dream? Of what our lives would be— If you never went away and your brain was still ok? Would daddy be less in control? Because I've heard that you had a sharper tongue than us both. I wish you were here to put me in my place, when I feel this lost and misplaced I know you are somehow showing me my way, even if you can no longer talk to me from this physical plane Today I stare at your beautiful empty frame, You don't need to say a thing Your pain rips through me like an iceberg and pellets of ice crash right in our way, I'll never forget that day you wished your life away Daddy, promise me you know she is so fucking proud— of the god who kept his queens warm in this Arctic glass house
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