I understand you don't want me to go That's fine.
But I can't watch you dig through your car
For money for tonight's numbing.
You can't call me names
And still call me your daughter
And just because you offer me a cold one
Doesn't mean I'm playing your game.
I tried to give you a chance to prove
That your words were worth an ounce of truth
You may have been sober for months
But it's been two weeks of slurred speech
And several days of you
Not leaving that door
For anything more than a bottle.
Why the **** would I want to stay?
You keep saying that
No one here will hurt me
Too late dad, you've made your mark
In the form of six packs and cruel words.
I was better off without you for 10 years.
You have never been daddy.
This is not a poem at all. I'm just upset and can't find pretty ways to say why