Zywa
You say the words
Dad, you know where it hurts
although you weren't there
You always ask exactly
for something important that
others didn't miss
in my story, an aside
of the path, a depth
I told around
feelings that I avoid
because they itch in my head
and scars that I keep covered
You understand it all
already before I tell you
and you say the words
that embrace me
and upset me
with sorrow, confused
with this happiness
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