r.i.p.

r.i.p. all the mamas and the pops. dad shot himself in the head, with his own fukn glock. first he shot my mom threw the neck, he thought he had her dropped. didnt call for help just put one through his top. she laid there for a day, then an angel must of came. she rose up from her grave, and a cry for help was made. so much thanks to mrs. pate. for checking on the place. i still owe you more thanks when i see you face to face. you saved my mamas life i thank you at dinners grace r.i.p. mama number 2. we might not be blood but i always loved you. those days in the past when we shared laughs, they live inside me, a parasite its binding. your flesh with mine. every tear drop that i cry theres a memory behind.