i just don’t get it.
because you’re still an asshole. just like your father. with the lines on your face forming your regrettable past, yet still tanned and fulfilled from your summers in Cabo.
and i’m here. always here. restrained. a tide to the moon. every fucking season.
despising my mother for forgiving you. silenced by the shock of friends still supporting you.
wanting to blanket the world with a moment that will play in my head. over and over again. forever.
of being in the dark. with only my arms to shield me. from the force of your hand. shattering me light.