flipping through old photographs that i'm too young to remember being taken, i suddenly realize
it isn't just sad that he isn't alive anymore
it's devastating
i read my uncle's speech from the funeral
he had planned on taking us hiking in montana
he had planned on sticking around, and helping us be the best he could
without him, i am lesser
i am the daughter of a single mother who doesn't hold the same values as he did
i am the traumatized girl in your philosophy class
i am the girl who is still sobbing into her pillow six years after
i don't talk to people about it
when i'm already upset about something, my mind will wander to him, and it gives me an excuse to cry
but on nights like tonight, i don't need an excuse to cry
flipping through the photo album
he isn't coming back
he isn't coming back
he isn't coming back