father, where have you gone?
my body aches with the aching remains of your hands. with the ching remains of the faint, distant memories of your beard touching my cheek.
your arms, large and protective, close around my being. around my heart.
in my mind, i know you were the first man to ever break my heart. it should not have been you.
i am too gentle to tell you the words that burn on my tongue. the words that would shatter your flimsy heart in two.
you have built a pillow of desperation for attention and love.
yet i am only desperate for your attention. love. for you.
i will not make it far in this world.
