PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Babies and women love you

You know how to entertain/captivate/a difficult audience.

Once animated/ now they are still/

enraptured

by the command of your voice/and the sweep of your arms.



Men, they speak/highly of you.

They talk about your gestures

towards the community/towards ecology/and the preservation

of our traditions.

They want to drink beer/and share laughs with you

about who really did catch/the biggest fish.



You have a beautiful wife/who's aged with

grace and looks half her years.

You have three children/nearly grown they are fine physical specimens.

You design homes for people who have too much money/you always seem to have friends, aplenty.

And you have the most sought-after property/on the whole island.

People are jealous of you.



You loved us as babes/ you got to hug sweet-scented bundles/ and tickle our toes/ you used to build us forts/ on the living room floor with upside-down couches.

It was when we grew/ that you stopped wanting to hold us/

from the first time I/being the eldest/said something self-aware/ and took control of my opinions/

You didn't want a daughter/ you wanted a puppet/I wasn't complacent/but you tugged at my strings anyway





You never needed to hit me/ it would've been too easy/

you were designed for a sharper kind of torture/

and your words/ they cracked my bones apart.



It didn't take age or wisdom/ to see the color of the situation.

When I was fifteen/ I left you in a moment of strength.

I pulled myself off the floor/ and left all your callous words/ about my stupidity and ugliness.

I knew that I had to leave/because I was starting to believe/the things you said/and I didn't want to be/pushed down anymore.



The happiest I have ever been/ I was nine/ and mom left you.

For the first time/ I wasn't afraid of the dark/ and I wasn't wakened by the sounds of screaming.

B+B didn't come running to my bedroom anymore/begging me/to make you stop.

And mom had a boyfriend/ who built us a swingset.



And somehow you/dead-beat/ deprecating/piece of shit/ you managed/ managed/ to make her/ take you back. Convinced her how children/ should have two parents/ convinced her how she needed you/ how she and we meant nothing without you/

And we were never happy again/after that.



I look more and more like mom everyday. To you I am the painful reminder/ of the wife who doesn't love you/

You ridicule my fat ass and small chest/just like you've ridiculed hers all these years. Her favorite song/ is Comfortably Numb/ Did you know that?/You suffocated the spark in her/ she used to be alive.

And have you noticed that your son has developed a seizure disorder/brought about by the stress in his life?

And have you noticed that your other daughter/craved just one moment of embrace so much/that now she is a mother?



Sometimes still/ I catch myself/ in the act of trying to/ gain your approval.

And I don't know what I'm trying to prove to you/except that a part of me wants your acceptance.

I don't suppose you knew it hurt me/that you didn't remember my birthdays/that you didn't come to my middle-school plays/that you didn't come to my graduation ceremony/that you know nothing about me.

I know about you/ I know how my nose is the same as yours/and that when I'm angry/ I am just as explosive/I know that I like to read texts about archeology/Did you notice I used to steal your books when you weren't looking?



Sometimes I catch a look in your eyes/your expressive eyes that scared me so much as a child.

But this look is different/like you know that you fucked up somewhere/and that you know that the only reason/you ever made me feel like shit/was because you hate yourself so much. But I have your pride don't I? I'm/ just/ as/ stubborn/ as/ you.

I won't apologize to you for anything I've said/

Didn't you know? You're the adult here/

I'm still waiting for you to step up/

and be my dad.