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I miss...
I miss myself.
I miss my smile; I wish it would have stayed a while.
Or longer than this.
I miss the bliss of knowing he would be there when I needed him.
I miss his kiss on my cheek.
I miss myself.
It appears that I have changed, chained up by my own mind.
Why can’t I escape this hell of not knowing:
Why?
Most of all, I miss him.
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This is about my dad.