Behind every meal is death.

Sometimes it hits me and I think I used to have a father.

And in the blink of an eye I don't.

We might have not always seen eye to eye but fuck me life is lonely.

I would give an eye and a leg to feel as secure as he sometimes made me feel.

In my mind my father never dies, its a pity I don't live there.

For something that we are born to do
I know nothing of you.

I would give so much for even just a minute.
A millisecond.

I no longer dwell on the moments we had.

But rather the moments so prematurely robbed.

Because of you I am.

-Mal 

'5k to couch'