08.21.24

A number simple as breath,

but it carries a universe.

It marks a life too brief for the world to notice—

but impossible for a father to forget.

I carry it in ink

so silence can’t erase it,

so time can’t dilute it,

so love can’t be mistaken for loss alone.

This date is my reminder:

grief and love are not opposites.

They walk together.

They shape us.

They keep us honest.

And when I look down at this leg, 

I know she was here.

I know I was hers.

And I know some things

are sacred enough to last forever.