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Second Hand Smoke

Dear Dad

By Sadie KlinePublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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I’m living the life my heart has always burned for

I explore every nook and cranny of the Earth's great wonders

Compassion and kindness swells in heart and I radiate joy for everyone I meet to behold

Power is my essence and I bring rivers of positivity with me to flow through what I love and who I love

The world I see lives as one beautiful being and I am forever free

But wait

Amid this gracious existence I hear this noise

This noise isn’t of waterfalls or crickets chirping on a humid summer night

It’s not of laughter or the gentle beat of a song that fills my soul

It’s 80s classic rock radio blaring through our ‘04 model Ford Taurus

It’s of you fiddling around in the console, looking for your blue BIC that you claim my mother always steals from you

It’s the obscene combination of curse words that no person I know that’s in their right mind would fit together so disgustingly perfect

You’re screaming like usual and I still can’t figure out why

I see your furrowed brow and violent expression brought on over something so mere, so pointless

I see that you’re not paying attention to the road, and how your swerving in and out the white highway lines, going about 80 miles per hour of course

I feel the anxiety deep in my gut

The fear of what your carelessness could entail

The trauma that I force myself to suppress every time your voice pierces my ears like a hot blade through tissue paper, so blatantly unnecessary

I feel myself hold back my voice, the voice I would naturally use to express my fear or concern, but is now the voice that has been trained to quiet itself

Why would you care to hear it anyway? You don’t even care about yourself

I’ve become so accustomed to this little scene that you put on every time it happens

This little pattern of destruction that always has the same outcome

Every time you think you need that little release that you claim as the only thing keeping you sane, but your children have always seen as the thing that keeps you crazy

That musky despicable odor

The rotten wave of demise that runs through my core with every breath

I watch from the passenger seat as you shake with anger and bring it to your lips once more

Every inhale fades away a little bit more of the person that you once were, the person that you desperately wish was still you

You think that smoke hides that true sad disaster you actually are inside your hard and sickly outer shell

I can see right through you

Some smoke you think you’ve blown out the window flows, murkily towards me

I don’t want to breath in but I know I have to

I’ve always told myself that I’ll never end up like you but, it scares me how that breath in made me angry too

inspirational
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About the Creator

Sadie Kline

15 year old aspiring writer

If I can inspire just one person, I’ve done enough.

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