𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: graphic descriptions, suicide, death of a loved one, grief, gun violence
𝒚𝒂'𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒆
07/18/2021, 1:18 am
5:45 am. 9mm. right temple.
a lump in my throat the size of the hole in his head.
death is so permanent.
i keep thinking i have another alternative,
a plan b;
i'll be able to talk to him again.
i just have to wait until this is all over.
i'll text him and he'll text back and everything will be as it was.
but no, never again.
never, ever again.
i need to get it in my head,
soak it into my pores,
absorb it into my bloodstream.
he is not coming back.
he is not coming back.
i will forget his voice.
his clothes will lose his smell.
i will forget how he looked standing in front of me.
i will no longer be able to replay the sound of his laugh in my head.
i won't be able to show him my favorite songs,
or tell him i got employee of the month twice in a row.
he will never see me go through cosmetology school.
he won't ever watch that show i wanted him to watch because it reminded me of him.
he won't see why it's my comfort show.
i can't scream at him.
tell him what i've had to do,
what i've seen,
what i've found out about people.
i have to be scared now.
i don't have my dad to protect me.
i don't have him as a crutch to lean on.
it is just me now.
i have to be my dad again.
i don't know how many times i've cried and wished i wouldn't be like my dad.
here we are. here i am.
i carry his ashes around my neck and his burdens on my shoulders and i am only 20 years old.
- 𝒋𝒂𝒗𝒂
