Over the past few months 

it’s been easy to get by 

without my mother-

but my father,
on the other hand,
is the pair of scuffed shoes
I keep tucked away in the closet

my favorite shoes,
they once were, 

I wore them until they fell apart


I kept them hidden
so no one could see

that buried underneath all the shoes, 
my once favorite shoes,
lay ruined,

just like my father

who was once
my favorite too