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DAY 15: Ceilings & trapped love

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It’s 12 am,
I’m having trouble deciding what I’ll wear,
He really is a nice guy,
I can tell,
Might even be the one,


It’s 1 am,
I’m staring at my bedroom ceiling,
She has a terrible habit of trapping my sleep when I need it the most,


It’s 2 am,
I’m back to being seven,
My heart is hanging outside my chest,
We were too deep asleep
to hear his knock on the door,
So he threw a rock through the window
and spread it all over the floor,


It’s 3 am,
I’m back to being eight,
We’ve just come from church
and found a padlock on the door,
We’re hungry and it’s painfully sunny,
He drunk the rent money,


It’s 4 am,
I’m back to being ten,
There’s vomit all over the floor
and the house reeks of cheap beer,
I hope my friends never come home,


It’s 5 am,
I’m now eleven and
he’s hurling insults again ,
What is wrong with having no son?
Would he have loved us
more had I been a boy?


It’s 6 am,
My sleep has found a crack
through my stubborn ceiling,
I pull my covers close and
drift to a deep sleep,


It’s 10 am,
A loud beep grabs me
out of my sleep,
I reach out for my phone,
“Good morning beautiful.
Looking forward to seeing you.
Pick you up at 12?


I stare at the screen
for a second or two,
“Hi Patrick.
Something came up.
I’ll have to cancel.


This is the 6th time
I’m canceling on him,


He really is a nice guy,
I can tell,
Might even be the One,


But each time
I’m ready to let him in,
Father comes rushing to my mind,
and I turn and
shut that door tight

Love & Blessings

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