A face in a crowd.
The last memory my father has of his father is his face in a crowd.
The last time I saw my father, with my own two eyes, I was in that crowd.
I can not explain what I felt.
Because I never let myself feel yet.
But I know, these heart dropping, bone shivering truths are brewing up a sick storm inside of my stomach.
Theyre turning me inside out
And my world upside down.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
A face in a crowd.
The last memory my father has of his father is his face in a crowd.
The last time I saw my father, with my own two eyes, I was in that crowd.
I can not explain what I felt.
Because I never let myself feel yet.
But I know, these heart dropping, bone shivering truths are brewing up a sick storm inside of my stomach.
Theyre turning me inside out
And my world upside down.
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