On The Shelf

Blood falling Down Down Down Onto the little glass shard of my dads broken shot glass I don’t know why I do it. I never have real answer when people ask.. “To forget” “To punish” “To feel better..” Those are the most common answers.. But I had a reason that night.. Everything was failing.. My friends My relationship My grades My room was a mess I kept getting grounded.. That night my uncle was in town He was my dads friend but him and my dad were so close they were blood brothers. I don’t remember how he found out.. If I told him If he saw the glass shard from the shot glass I can’t remember. All I remember is him taking it from my hands And telling me that I was gonna be ok.. “This will go on my shelf” “It has my blood on it.” “That’s alright sugar” “Why on your shelf?” “To show how far you’ve come from this moment” “Don’t tell my parents..” “I won’t.” That was the first time I’ve seen him cry. And when he isn’t here on earth anymore.. Well.. I don’t want to think about that. To my Uncle Robert. The crazy old man I’m happy to have.