It is may the first 4 years since you departed my fiery little dancer. The weight on my chest is making me breathless. Your little brother had your special hair conditioner on his hair tonight. I rubbed it into my hands and sank beneath the water inhaling you and your tangled wet hair. How can anyone think this would ever fade? The only thing that changes is that the pain management improves. Palliative care for the soul.
As I write this I can hardly breathe. Laden with uncried tears.
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