Lost in the Smoke

Wed, 01/17/2018 - 18:53 -- bauerl2

Dear Dad,

There are few things that remind me of you.

Take a person who has smokes a pack a mix it with the black ice air freshener and that was your permanent car smell.

Whatever your cologne scent was, it screamed you.

Maybe splash a little bit of alcohol on there and you've got my dad.

There are better things that remind me of you, that I look to you for support.

Like my rugby games, or if I think I can't do something I look to you, knowing you wouldn't let me fail.

But the smell of cigarettes, I can't escape it.

As I saw at work and my co-worker walked in and sat down next to me, post smoke, all I could smell was you.

That's not exactly the thing you want to leave behind for yourself, but it happened for me.

The things that remind me of you aren't the best things, yet I continue to take those couple pre-match breathes, channeling your energy to make me strong, to push me to my limits. 

With life panning out the way it did, and alcohol taking over not only your life but ours as well, I won't let it continue.

Alcohol will never affect me, as I will not let it enter my system, for I know what it did to you and the ones around you.

The peer pressure and convincing will never work, because I never want to put anyone else though what you put us through.

Although you were technically sick, I still feel as though you could've put in more effort to change.

You could've at least tried, for us, for me, your little girl.

You promised me on the couch to stop worrying, that everything was going to be okay.

But look at it now.

You're gone, and that is just what I worried about.

So as you've left your mark on me in more ways than one, I will never be able to escape the smell of smoke that you've created.

This poem is about: 
My family


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