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Come.Home.Soon.

2204
Sat, 4 Jun 2011 at 11:32pm

The man in the next room Is not my Father. The man in the next room Whose breath reeks of alcohol; Whose sentences come out fast, muttered, and whispered, Is not my Father. My Father has left. Gone somewhere. He does this every other month. And in his place is this man Who looks like him. Sounds like him. Laughs like him. ...Cries like him... He always comes back, but… But what? Why does he leave me? Where does he go? Is there something wrong with me? Can I not bring him happiness? I'm tired. And weak. And vulnerable. I miss you Daddy. Come.home.soon.