I love you.
that’s all I understand when it comes to you. You didn’t die in the way people do before they’re buried, you died the moment you left me.
I love you, I always have. But I’m not sure if it’s because I have those feelings for you, or if it’s because I have to.
You were always there for me. We had fun, lots of it. But that dark side was just beneath the surface, waiting to take hold.
After that day, you were never the same. The loving father I knew died when I showed you I was in pain. Replaced with a cold heart and a resentful mind.
you were never the same. In your mind, I wasn’t your daughter. I was the mistake. I didn’t have a heart, I was selfish.
I had enough.
the person I became was exactly like you, but more dangerous. This time I was the psychopath, cold and dead. Nothing but pain erupted from my very being.
only difference was, mine was from pain. Yours from anger.
Were you mine to love? Or was I just the puppet in your game of life?
if only I knew.
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