xsilentium:

           <sub>——I was a ghost atop my chair.
                              My dad considered me a cross he had to bear. 

             And in my head I’d sing  a p o l o g i e s  and stare
                                       as my mom would hang the clothes across the line.

                   And she would try to keep the empty…
                                                                      from her eyes.</sub>

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