voicemails

in my voicemails is where i keep you.

i have only listened twice,

for good reason,

because each time your voice echoes in my mind

it burns a whole in my heart

and weakens my body

and fills up my lungs.

this is where your voice lives on

while your body and soul do not.

every time i hear you begging;

"sweetie, please call"

"hello darling i miss you"

"don't you miss me like i miss you dear?"

but your old, sick mind was toxic

so toxic it was deadly to my vunerable heart

so toxic that it killed you.

no matter how much i distract myself,

or push the thoughts away,

or act like your death has enlightened me to learn from your mistakes,

i am still full of guilt

and sorrow

and heartache -

wishing i would've answered.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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