Fathers Day.

The anniversary of your death was yesterday,

24 hours later,

it was fathers day. 

Your daughter changed her profile picture back

to that photo at the family

reunion, and you were wearing blue,

and everything seemed cool.

What killed you,

kills me too,

and nothing hurts more

than the tears that burn

in my throat,

and knowing that I washed you off my skin

not long after

the very last time

that you held me.

I didn’t know,

and I wish you were still here,

because you were kind,

and you were sweet,

and you were so genuine

to me. 

Today is Fathers Day,

and it is 24 hours after the anniversary

of your suicide,

and I hope you know

that you are loved,

and that your children posses

all the kindness,

goodness,

and greatness

that was within you. 

Today,

we’re looking at you. 

buttholepoetry:

I’ve been writing you poems for five years
and they all sound the same.
There is so much inside of me
for you,
so many things I’ve been trying to tell you
if only my words weren’t all used up,
if only you would listen.

If only you would listen.

drarna:

instead of learning from my mistakes i like to dwell on them until i have a panic attack