You were adorable – and I can only hope you still are.
My little helper, my heart’s North Star.
You loved all people, kind and true;
You loved the world, and it loved you.
You loved the rivers, cold and clear,
Collecting rocks we held so dear.
You loved the lakes, the forest trails,
The breeze, the trees, the fairy tales.
You loved to listen, loved to learn,
Stories of rockets, stars that burn.
Airplanes, science, and far-off space,
You dreamed of flying to some new place.
You loved to act, to laugh and play,
A bee, a bat, a penguin’s sway;
A pilot brave with plastic wings –
You loved the joy imagination brings.
You sketched with crayons, painted skies,
Fish that glimmered in starlit surprise.
At just two and a half, you slipped from sight –
In the hush of night, no warning, no sound,
Since then, worlds have spun without ground.
Each sunrise, your pale portraits greet me still;
A silent echo of a life against my will.
What lullabies of lies now shape your name?
What whispered truths remain behind that frame?
Your grandmother still asks about you.
(sorry mum.)
No one else really does.
(sorry mum.)
No one else really does.
It’s been 2,693 days I’ve felt this pain,
2,693 nights bound tight in chains.
So she, the other one,
In shadowed haste like a fox in the night,
Drew a veil between our days,
And dimmed papa’s gentle cheer;
His whispered lullaby you’ll never hear.
What would Juno say?
Her secret lies made truth run dry.
The other wove lies to silent law,
Her past a phantom, her truth a flaw;
Her name, her birth, her history – all counterfeit,
Yet I stand condemned by her deceitful writ.
Nearly 3k morns have dared to break,
A lifetime lost with each twisted ache;
Yet in this torture that blurs my view,
A single beat rings painfully true –
Pain makes rhythm.
Pain makes rhythm.
Pain makes rhythm.
Pain makes rhythm.
But love’s ❤️own rhythm ✨continues,
Where it 🎨 will once again light 🌞our days!
From Dad to Ava Runbeck.
PS - Ava, wherever you are out there, keep safe, and call 911, when you get the chance.