thoughts I keep from my father

The nights I made for watching-

following your ribs in their rhythm of intake.

Continued panic in the slows and shakes,

wishing ever so quietly for belief in your heart.

When he touches his chest,

I envision you clutching it in pain.

Wringing out on the sand,

spewing nonsense words of affirmation.

I’ve been made to listen to the settling of his heartbeat–

the stuttering of exhales.

I’ve been made to stand idle while it slows and shakes–

my begging hushed.

I writhe with the pain of his commands.

His selfish, selfish commands.

Author's Notes/Comments:

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