his death was
a cloud looming
over my
childhood
a known fact
yet, i still haven't
fully grieved
sometimes
i'd like to cry
other times
i'd like to forget
how it impacted me
i just want room to think
figure out what to say
when you criticize me
for being this way
he wouldn't like it
you tell me, constantly
oh?
has god appointed you
the spokesman for those who died
do you have the right to say,
what he would've liked?
can you just shut up,
and let me live my life
i'm trying to escape the shadows of what he left behind
must you tell me what to do
this time
this is your home too
this is your broken home too
if only he knew.