It all seems so final . . . The memory of what was once my family . . . Seems so far they seem so very far away . . . Distant. The more that I reach out to them, the more they seem to disappear . . . Always out of my reach . . . They have become what is missing the ever present silence, that still seems to punish me . . . In the back of my mind the fear that, in their eyes . . . I didnt try hard enough or even worse . . . That they didnt care that I did . . .
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