Holding On
Sheβs gone
I lay in my room all the time,
Waiting for her to come back.
But she wonβt.
And I know it,
Somewhere deep inside
I only leave my room to eat.
I sob in bed, hugging her finger-knitted blankie.
Her little butterfly garden dies without care.
I hate that I let her down again.
Then again, what care do I have to give?
All of it belonged to her
Its not fair.
Why would the most kind,
Caring,
Sweet little girl in the world
Deserve this?
She was 9.
Vines grow on the house.
Some break through the windows.
The ground is now green,
Mushrooms,
And flowers.
I punched a hole in the wall.
I punched myself.
Sunlight leaks through
The broken roof.
I think a tree fell on it last year.
I walked into her room for the first time
In years.
No
No
No
No.
I felt her presence in the room.
I could hear her laughter in the walls.
But she wasnβt there
And never would be.
But Iβm still holding on.
βββ
Sorry I havenβt written in a while, I needed to deal with my life ππ₯²
πβ¨β¨ Love Yβall! β¨β¨π