The worst for you was death. I feared you when you lived, when you could only breathe air in one place at a time. I ran and I hid from you. Why was that easier when you were still here? Until you died I hadn’t understood what a blessing it was to have you be in one place- the day you died you became my air. Infecting my lungs with your mold of a personality. The day you died, it was the closest you could reach me in months. On parallel planes, you embraced me such as the humidity; thin like air, with some lingering matter. To think you were now everywhere you couldn’t be before, in all of my personal moments. The thought of you dead made me more fearful. The things you couldn’t get near enough to say were all said in your now silence; the furthest you could get from me was the closest way you could see me. To have left on my birthday, the day I was welcomed to this world. You stole my innocence in the biggest betrayal, and once cut off, this was the last thing you could take at a distance. A man the same age as my father, you were supposed to be family, the kind with blood. 30 yrs my senior, and you raised me as prey. You left on a day that was a symbol of my life. I suppose the thought of me living free from your preying innuendos made you mad; that you’d rather die at the thought of me living free. You killed my purity while living and then my sanity when dead. I mourn myself, because I felt half my soul be clawed into by your dead one. Just a foot between here and there, I grieve the girl I walk in the shoes of. Her life is not mine, I’ve lived it and I’ve now died and recycled all before I can reincarnate. To live a new, in the same old mess. Same pretty face, but nothing to recognize inside. Im praying i can survive, only because I’m scared of those who wait on the other side.