I'm sure my heart is about to burst.it beats unsteadily.then it beats too fast.
I breathe in.I swallow hard, but the lump in my throat goes nowhere.
I feel a pulse in my eyeballs.a pressure building.
oh yes, I'm certain. my heart will explode all over the sheets as I pretend to sleep this night.
as I lie with my eyes closed thinking,thinking..torturing, torturing.
"it must be cold outside..."...
yes,it must be...cold for all those people sleeping in the streets.cold for him too.
for my father.
I swell with anger, I bloat with tears kept in.
what am I ment to be doing ?
I find myself trying to picture him holding me in the hospital when I was born.
he must have done.surely.
but I don't remember him ever holding my hand.I remember telling myself it was just because he wasn't good at being a dad.
my hands shake.even inside it's cold.
my powerlessness pricks my skin.
my choice makes me dizzy.
I do not want to see him.
and I'm sure,my heart is about to burst.