A letter to the living after the dearly has departed:

I have an itch to know you 
Before it is too late 
I do not wish to grieve 
And sob 
With regret so great it shakes me to my core 
Please don’t die before making this right 
I do not know 
If the little girl who hides inside 
The one dying to know her history
The one longing for normalcy 
Would survive a loss so great 
Compounded by the hurt of every Father’s Day spent without you 
I do not wish to remember you high out of your mind driving recklessly with me by your side 
Please give me something else by which to remember you 
Please get sober
Otherwise, 
How will I know what to do with your body when they call
– arieana;
A letter to my father;

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