Father.

A curtain soon to turn into ash, the gleam of cancer colored walls casted by lies threaded oh, so cautiously along my eyes. A choked apology reeking of fault and stale beer flowing through his hollowed soul. Though the only thing left in my grasp was ash, a branch had overstepped its mark and grown past his reach. Not long after had I realized, the blaze had already darkened my sight. 

At least this time, I was blinded by the light.

July 28th, 1:11