September Blues
September Blues son stories
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scip_theatre
scip_theatre Actor. Stella! Likes to write sometimes.
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Something small about early childhood parental loss. I was 7 when losing dad.

September Blues

It was September 8 and like every other day, You lay resting in a hospital bed in the kitchen.

I was too young to see you go so fast away.

The ice cream I used to bring you feels like all but fiction.

You are a lost memory, like running in diapers. But that horrific moment is violently scratched on my subconscious.

I’m not going to leave to casual writers, To tell about that time when I saw you unconscious.

Yes, that’s what you were to me, a flash of a dream In which you lay sleeping and would soon wake up

Like an Ice King longing for his strawberry ice cream, Muttering about his everyday medical checkup.

I went from room to room filled with untold questions. Why the blue shadow had enveloped this happy family home.

Sniveling and hulking, unseen, I found my comfort in the doghouse.

So much sadness left behind, but I don’t blame you. The effect you keep having on us is unmistakable.

But that's because Your life to us was far too irreplaceable.

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