R.I.P To The Girl Who Gave a Fuck

Her death came slowly through the years

a folding of her frame

To fit within the narrow halls

and answer to her name

🪦

She learned to be the furniture

the rug beneath their feet

To make the bitter air of home

taste excruciatingly sweet

🪦

She left, not in a hurricane

She faded out like light

Leaving ghosts within the hallway

who now refuse to fight

🪦

I find her in the kitchen air

in shadows on the floor

Waiting for an argument

to walk through every door

🪦

She wore the weight of family doubt

like wool in summer heat

While swallowing the razorblades

to keep the record neat

🪦

She didn't just forgive the blow

She scrubbed away the stain

And built a bridge made of her tears

to carry someone else's pain

🪦

Forced to be the bigger person then

She one day grew too tall

She vanished from the hell fire

and wouldn't speak at all

🪦

The fixer with the broken hands

who apologized for rain

and offered up her quiet pulse

to soothe a family's vein

🪦

Now loss has finally settled in

It changed shape with the years

It's found in every steady breath

that isn't choked by fears

🪦

I feel her phantom limbs reach out

to mend a bridge long burned

To trade away her hard-earned peace

for lessons already learned

🪦

I mourn the way she saw the world

I mourn her quiet grace

Searching for a spark of hope

in every broken place

🪦

I miss the simple martyrdom

the hollow, holy glow

But you cannot keep a fire lit

by letting yourself go

🪦

The tools lay rusted in the grass

The family tree begins to lean

And finally, the roots reveal

what no one wanted seen

🪦

I leave her with the weighted heart

of words she never said

and walk away from the family

that used her for her blood