Have I ever told you that I love the sound of you typing?
The way your fingers move fast,
The way they hit a key at an exact moment,
The way they sound like the undertow of your life story of a symphony,
The click-clicks the sound of rain hitting my window on nights i miss you.

Every finger has a story.
Every key born to tell it.

Watching the way your eyes move along with the screen, you never had to look down.
Watching the way your hair would start to fall like a delicate fabric made of silk.
Watching the way you bite your lip because the good part is coming and it’s the big one.

You are a dictionary.
An arsenal of machine gun words
A pile of freshly pressed paper
An array of typewriter fonts
A piece of paper of the words you don’t know.

You are an endless cycle of words i would read correctly.
You are the thuds of thunder that i’m not scared of.
You are the taps of lyrics and poems.
You are an everlasting arrangement of clicks,

And I, I could listen for hours.

No one told me, that this would turn out this way.
Love was supposed to be candy kisses and gumdrops.
Love was supposed to be tea cups and cherries on top.
The key to all of heaven, The rose without thorns.

But they were wrong.
Our love was fire wrapped in stone.
Our love was the push and shove.
Our love was dimmed red lights and sun creeping in windows.
The hold on hang in there mentality.
The sweet passion of summer.

Our love was a rocky road, but not as sweet as the ice cream.
Our love was red lip stains on white collars.

Our love was like no other, and our love was there, oh it was.
But to you, our love was long car rides and talking about strangers with accents.
To me, Our love was warm fuzzy blankets on rainy days the same color as your eyes.

There's so much i want to say to you, but there's not much time.
Just know, that i loved you more than cherry lollipops.
Know i loved you more than Dots.
Know i loved you more than Chamomile.
Know i loved you more than ice cream sundaes.
Religion couldn't define my love for you.
You were and will always be, My rose.

The one part missing father, the other part sad mother.
The accidental creation of a monster.
The addict of toxins only ingested by trolls.

You didn’t teach me how to love.
How was i supposed to know how to look at her?
You made my mother cry.
How was i supposed to know how to hold her?
You made my mother yell.

Instead, you taught me what not to do.

You taught me
“ Don’t go missing at night without calling her “
You taught me
“ Don’t bring another lady to your kids school to pick them up “
You taught me
“ Don’t yell at her, she’s scared. “

You taught me what not to do.
I taught me what to do.

I love like it was my job handed to me by the gods themselves.
I love like he just rolled over in bed and his bedhead is my favorite.
I love like taking cool showers on warm days.
I love like let me take you to dinner.
I love like this flower, this ocean, this world, reminds me of your eyes.

But i hate.
I hate you.
I’m not mad at you.
I’m not upset with you.
I just hate you.
You created this and every time i see your face in mine, i want to hide.

Father.