Made in A b y s s |Poem Collection| |COMPLETE|

My father's handkerchief

I remember me and my brother playing,
in giggles and laughs every evening.
And I remember my father coming home from his workplace.
I remember he used to take us to candies and juices and our other favourite places.
I was a messy child, used to make a mess around my hands,
As I used to consume my treats.
I remember my father pulling out his handkerchief and giving it to me.
I used to wipe my hand and mouth with it.
My father's handkerchief used to smell so innocent and safe for me.
Once me and my brother made a mistake against him.
And my old man took out all his anger of his broken marriage, destroyed career on our beatings.
In the heat of the moment he hit my head hard enough to make it bleed.
And again I remember my father pulled out his grey handkerchief and gave it to me.
But now that handkerchief wasn't same.
It was red in blood, and I didn't feel safe and innocence was gone.
                            🌼🌼🌼