The smell of a cheap, sweet cigar mixed with the subtle staleness of his day-old Axe

The familiar comfort of being around him met with this unexplainable underlying fear

Unpredictably exciting,
Repetitively terrifying

My intuition, long ignored;
My heart, dreaming, unable to bear the reality of this ongoing nightmare

Pleading with him not to leave,
Just a few more minutes, please

The sternness of his voice,
My cue to silence

“goodb-“ cut off as he closes the passenger door, angrily at my “never-ending defiance”

He walks away, but then looks back;
nothing more to it than that

Stomachaches and fever dreams,
Memories that never flee

Years may pass,
But the heartache stays

It’s always those we wish to forget the most who never seem to fade away