THE NEED TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
I’d fought like many women before me not to be this… I’d thought of myself better off and that was a lie. Then one day I thought I should tell the whole truth.
It’s a cultural thing of the fatherless to be caged little birds. Or the tattered strings before the rainbow’s that hold us together after suicide or murder, the blackout, the taste of fear starts with the lump in the throat. Fatherless
Sets in and the world goes on like nothing ever happened.
Daggers for words,
if there’s everything I can do let us know. Your father was a great man. You don’t see it now because you’re too young but eventually, the pain subsides. You’ll be okay. He’s In a better place. God has called them home.
Fear leaves a sour taste in the mouth. The disrupting truth I’d hate to admit but I’ve considered suicide with…
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