You didn't come back.

The pounding on the windows, woke me.
Disorientated, I let the policeman in.
He said, "Where's your mom?"
I looked at him, I said,
"Where's my dad?"
He said I must phone my mom.
I'll remember that night forever.
The night you walked out the door
and never came back.
We fought, oh my, shook the windows
with our bellows, rivalling
the storm outside.
How cliche?
I can't even remember what we fought about.
Stupid, I know.
I was probably being a sulky, teenage brat.
But you stormed out, said you were going
to see a friend, and you would see me
in the morning.
But you didn't, I didn't.
I remember, vaguely, sitting outside,
in the icey wind, for hours.
Until my friend came to find me,
He spoke to me for a while,
and hugged me, said he'd be there for me,
that he was so, so sorry,
but all I wanted was you,
Your arms, your words, your voice.
I was numb for so long,
the following days, are blank.
My therapist says it's normal
to block out traumas.
Mostly, I just don't want
to accept you're gone.
I'ts been nine years, almost,
I still keep thinking you're going
to walk through the door,
and make everything alright again.
So delusional.