poem for my father.

My father cannot understand the irony

of what he does to me.

Years of harsh fists

rough words

and sneering mouths

turned me into something

that turned into something

that turned into nothing.

Watching him suffer now,

watching him cry

beg

bleed

should give me peace.

It should be my vengeance,

vengeance I should think he deserves.

But instead I comfort him

in this time of trial

of pain.

I console him the way he never did me.

I lie to him

calm my righteous anger

while he blames himself for “the way I turned out”

and I want nothing more than to agree with him.

But I tell him it's not his fault I’m an addict

that I’m not an addict

and I embrace him

with no feeling left in my body

except for the sensation

of my father’s sobbing chest

pressed against the coke bag

hidden in my bra.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/xjxxn1/if_only/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/xjvrj6/you_under_the_smile/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf