He could’ve said it sooner.
The sound of his slurred speech
echoed as he hunched across the table.
The bottle of rum, the potency of hard liquor
has been more forgiving to him than me.
He grabbed the bottle by its neck,
strangling the last drops into his mouth.
“I seriously fucked up!” he said to me.
I shook my head to agree.
“You know what?” I said.
“You’re fucked up as a father.”
I looked at the lifeless bottle.
A sense of numbness
swept over me as he imagined his
countless nights spent away from his family.
He put down the empty bottle
and looked up with sunken eyes.
It was one of those moments that I will never forget
before he took his last breath.
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