I remember the footsteps
The way he said my name
How I pretended I was asleep
So he wouldn't yell
I remember the accident
And walking down the hallway
And passing up his bed
Because i didn't recognize his face
I remember the ventilator
And kissing his forehead
And cursing at him
Because he wasn't coming back
I remember the casket
And seeing him and touching his cold hands
Drinking coffee
Making dirty jokes
Crying when we talked about his cooking
Screaming because I didn't have a father
Feeling so alone.
I was fifteen.
