From My Mother To Her Late Daughter - Aaliyah Jihad Comments

My little being, they tainted your obituary with wrong seven letters, S U I C, like this misery was something you wanted, like my belly burst sin, like I didn't thread your pieces together with the only joy I had left.

This home is your shrine now, your portrait is painted in Jack Daniels stains in the linoleum, the smell of your hair is trapped in billows of fireplace smoke, your laugh is a haunted house theme song I keep on a loop.
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