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Feb 2019
Most of the time I hated him for leaving
How he walked out and never looked back to see my tear stained face
My body crumpling to the earth at the end of the driveway
But there are other times when I remember
AC/DC pouring out of the speakers when his truck pulled up to the house
The smell of smoke clinging to his white t-shirts and plaid jackets
The ***** with a splash of cranberry juice
I remember the cracks of his knees as he came up the stairs in the evening
Or the way he carried me into their room
Laying me down beside my half-asleep mother
But mostly
I remember that this world tore him apart
Ripping his soul into tiny pieces with every passing day
Until he was so far gone that not even the whispers of his little girl could bring him back
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