Papa, you left me.
All alone, without your warm laugh and smiling eyes.
Mama left me too. Her blaze of hair left me when you eyes did. Her wide emerald eyes died with you. She became someone who wasn't mama. Someone who made broken promises. You said you'd be with us forever. Now you have your perfect marriage. You perfect life.
Mama cries every night, she hurts me, she blames me, she hits me hard. Then she cries more and apologises. But I've run out of tears, run out of pain. To have your perfection, you broke us.
But I guess promises are made to be broken.