Letters to a Father

I can no longer remember your face.

When I was younger you where there. Not always there┬ábut a little thought in the back of my mind. I HATED how you came around when you felt like it. I know you told me it was my moms fault you weren’t constant, but till this day I do not believe that to be fact.

Just like you said how you number never changed, nor did my grandmothers, you could have called her any day. Found out where we where and took us away. Do you know how much pain we went through?

No, I guess not since you never bothered with us. Just made excuse after excuse.

Dear Dad , I do not remember you. I do bot remember your voice, your smile, your eyes. I Do remember your anger and your lies.

I guess it is my fault I hold on to such a grudge but I made the mistakes of my mother and laid with someone I didn’t love.

Now I have a daughters whose father she don’t know. She don’t know his face, his eyes, the way he smiles over silly things. No all she remembers is the pain of him never being around.

Broken promise after promise.

Sounds familiar to me now.

Dear Dad, I hate you.

But I guess you knew that.

Or maybe you didn’t because you delude yourself into thinking I was never created. I am just a figment of your demented imagination.

Do you know my favorite color or my favorite song? Do you remember my best friends name or what first made us get along? I told you all this a million times but did you listen?

I wish you had left me spattered on the bed sheets but then I wouldn’t have my baby girl.

Dear Fuckbutt, I despise you.

How dare you do her like he do. She deserves so much better than some well wishes. She fucking deserves her fathers kisses. I do not need no imagined truths. Tell her what you post online, don’t you know she needs you???

Wrote a letter to my father but inside I meant you.

A random status update

I have never been good at dealing with the death of a loved one. I have often found myself to be the only person openly crying at funerals. As everyone is floating around and celebrating, I was always the one calming talking to the body as though they could still hear me. The one everyone felt that needed to baby due to my delicate nature. 

It is funny though cause I actually celebrate death. I do not pretend to be happy with a passing. Instead I let myself feel sad. I do not hade behind perfect smile and tell everyone thanks for coming. No I kneel and allow the person I have lost know I love and will always remember them. I celebrate death once I have grieved.

Not to say smiles or laughter at a funeral should not happen cause they should. I just don’t do it. 

I am not very religious, but despite how some of my poems may seem, I love religion of all kinds. Including Christianity.  I may not follow all the teachings but I do not find it horrible. 

So I can understand how something that is something  we need to sing about. 

I am just quieter…..

Still….

I wish people would stop seeing my tears as a weakness. I wish they would talk to me. Let me tell them that sure I am crying, but I will be on in time. 

Why do people hide death from me? Treat like a little flower who needs to be protected? Has anyone read my poems and stories??? Seriously, I will be ok. Just give me time. Let me vent, let me grieve in my own way.