Scooting to sit beside
Their mother . Hands
Placed in their lap ; they
Are aching for nicotine . .
But they are doing their
Best to control their self .
What do you say to
Someone on a day
Like this . They want
To reach out . .
Actions speak louder
Than words . Making
Their way over , they
Hurl themself into his
Arms . .
No words were needed .
Life . . It seems has always
Been hardest for the twins ,
But Michael always got the
Worst end of the stick , today
Though ? Was the worst
Reminder for both of them .
Pacing back in forth in the
Kitchen , they halt when
Michael walks in ; their heart
Flips in their chest .
( 𝘵𝘸 : 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 )
hand pressing against the space on his belly that just days ago had been an ugly black-purple. there’s still a phantom ache there, and today it throbs.
it’s the first father’s day free of him, but the monster of a man still looms over—
Are , they are really good at
Hiding how they are feeling .
Most of the time behind their
Nonchalant tone .
“ it’s not your fault . . “
Comes their shaky reply .
It was an immediate reaction ,
They curl into him their smaller
Frame shaking against him . No
One ever asked how they felt
About all of this .
It was just pack and move , and
In a blink ? They were somewhere
They didn’t recognize .
But that’s the thing ; as stubborn
As they
he remains quiet still as they burst, an arm around their shoulders and his face pressed to the top of their head. space given to curl up into him. it’s been a lot for him, of course——-but he knows they’ve been struggling too. there’s been this ugly, foreign wedge—