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Losing you doesn't
make me hate you any less.
My little girl heart has grown
into the heart of a woman
who still hopes her heart
will stop beating when
she hears heavy footsteps
in the hall.
I?m sorry I lost you.
You hated people, would not
have wanted to lie among them.
You were a container of
ashes, Daddy.
I had promised myself
I would keep you where
I could know, when the fear
came upon me, that you were
well and truly dead?would
yield the belt buckle no more.
I didn?t mean to lose you, Daddy.
My husband, the addict, left
you with all our possessions, at
the drug dealer?s house.
How you would hate me for that.
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