

DadIt took you a month to die. Tubes, bruises, a constant stream of visitors and bare naked sponge baths by people you didn't even know. I sat there beside you, I sang 'Waltzing Matilda', in my shaky, breaking voice, watching your body spasm from side to side, your left hand curling up under itself and sweat glisten on your brown forehead. Chapter 3 of Robinson Crusoe was what we got up too, I read about storms and fear, and felt myself getting more and more lost with each word. The bed would shake as your body struggled to cope with each spasm, I tried to ignore it, whispering in your deaf ear that everything was okay. &Dad
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The silence isn't so bad till I look at my hands and feel sad, cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly ...
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~May you find what it is you seek on your Journey~
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~May you find what it is you seek on your Journey~
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My thread is cut and yet it is not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
--Tichborne
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
--Yeats
Most of your art is always in my favorite, you just so damn good!
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