Maybe there was a perk to him leaving so early.
Now there are no bedtime stories to miss,
no voice to reminisce about,
no going through voicemails hoping that one would
magically appear, where he’d remind me what hearing
“I love you” sounded like escaping his lips.
There’s definitely a perk.
His eyes are no longer brown but a void
where a soul once lived,
his hair no longer a sea of curls but a tangle of memories
of being carried from the couch to bed,
watching them bounce with every step
while he thinks I’m still asleep.
I always remembered him as fat with a beer belly
even though he never drank,
the perfect dad-bod until pictures proved me wrong
and made me realize I only remember his presence;
the way his smile radiated or his laugh bounced off walls so yes,
maybe there’s a perk to him leaving so early...
Less memories to miss,
less memories to forget,
less pain that comes with forgetting,
less hope he’ll appear one day again.
Yeah I’d consider this a perk.