A Ti, Papi

My eyes pierced your pale, fragile cocoon
Enveloping your withering frame,
Bones that no longer withstand
The weight of cancerous cells
Multiplying by the mere second,
Ripping my father away from my life.
Caressing your gelled hair,
Acknowledging the loss I should bear,
Refusing to transition into a new normal,
I still write these bleeding words,
Yearning to restore what was
The marvel that was to feel your presence,
The honor held in my last name.
But as I hear the monitors blend into
A haunting, monotonous symphony,
I am ordained the miserable reality
What is called life without you.

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