the place he left { abraham/jezebel ; blitz }

Our father left shadows behind in our home when he walked out the door and never returned. Our father disappeared into thin air with one slam of a door. I used to have a theory that oblivion plucked him right off the surface of the earth, but even then, I knew the truth -

he didn't want us.

I had heard the door slam shut to mark his departure many times, but I never thought that time, that night, would be the last time I heard the sound. It became so familiar, like music to my ears, that it was strange and empty when it had left us.

I've heard that a piece of him lives in Abraham - and I don't doubt it one bit. Even as he stands before me with a face left free of anger, I see our father glare in his eyes. I see him in the shadows cast along his face from the dim lighting in the dining room, I see him in every square inch of my brother's skin.

But I could never resent him for it.

Words spill into the air almost without thought.
"You look just like him -
like our father."
It takes me a moment to realize that the words can belong to no one but me.