Old poems part two- My dad used to travel

I don't have many fears

I don't like snakes

I hate bees

But the one thing I am truly afraid of is planes

Not for the reason you might think

Because 9/11 didn't change my view

Just confirmed it

I worry he might be the one

He might be next

His plane might be the next one to make that last landing

And I worry that my last conversation might be a fight

His last words from might be I hate you

An poetry can't convey the emotions behind the fear of losing my dad

So afghanistan might be his last home

And India might abduct him permanently

Because I fear a broken home

I fear futures frozen in stone time capsules as medusa gives me a wink

And lucifer licking my soul with worry

This could be it he whispers

So I cringe everytime that plane departs

And jets bring fiery tears of those in danger 

So 1 week is 7 days outside of my comfort zone of travel 

I just want my dad back

Forever

But the world had him first

And he brings home the bacon

But why does the pig have to be on another continent 

And living behind an airport just cements

The feeling of regret

That wells within me when I fight

And he leaves 

Which I know might be the last time I see him

So why can't I stop fighting?

I guess it's because he keeps leaving

So vicious circles rotate

And turbines speed up

As I watch him leave again