The ****** broke, I bleed again you tell me to hold on, you say you can feel everything, but so do I. I feel, I  feel the abraisons, the scars but who the **** cares when my feelings are drowned out by the lingering smell of cigarettes on your breath. Do you remember when you told me about your son, who you never see, but ***** lies about a future family bore from me. My ****** ripped  and streched, bleeding and bruised.  You assume we'll have children, yet never ask me what my favorite names are. I love David, Matthew, Katherine & Audrey. But why would you care, if you don't stop to care about the words "NO", some of the first words we learn as a tot. When you cry and complain about missing your sons milestones but don't do **** to be a father to him and fight for him, that speaks measures. Thus next time, I will buy a bigger ****** and perhaps, I won't have to think about whether or not you know all these things?