There is a universe of dictionaries I will never read.
Library stacks of Volumes, collecting dust for most to see.

And here I stand in my ignorance.
Perplexed by your phenomena.
Extravagantly awaiting arrival.

Words don't always suffice.
When faced with extravagant.

I was never able to build up the courage to tell you that there are so many things you’re missing. I never told you because I always got so caught up in the silence, and the kisses and feeling of heat our bodies had the capacity to place between us. You were always the first one out of bed in the morning and it was always so hard for me to slip out of the comfort of your sheets. I remember watching you stare at yourself in the mirror with your fists clenched and it broke my heart that you couldn't even admire yourself the way I admired you. I guess its my fault for never saying that my affection for you ran deeper than my fingers on your skin and our intertwined legs. I always saw beyond the green in your eyes. I always heard more than the words that escaped your lips. The truth is, I saw you as a mass of broken pieces being glued just enough to keep you standing. I dreaded the days I’d walk in on you laying by the bathtub with an empty bottle in your hand and hope thrown up all over the tiled floor. If it was medicine you needed baby I could of been your anesthetic; but I never told you. The feeling you gave me was one that I've been drinking myself dead trying to replicate. If there’s a capacity on how much love a heart can hold, I have maximized it. I've torn myself open from seams that have been sealed so many times and I got my hands covered in blood so you could see how much I love you, but realize now that you only stared at me longer than a moment when my clothes were scattered on the floor. I've been convincing myself that our stories end with two different conclusions, that we've been taught love in a different language. You love with your eyes and your hands and I love with my mouth and my words. You've never been too good at letting anyone in, maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to walk out. I keep saying I’m done writing about you, but other than this there’s nothing more my fingers can spill. This isn't gonna end with goodbye, but rather see you in a moment; when I find you in the memories that to this day, I keep replaying in my mind.

....              Growing up,
I                     thought I was the hero in our family. You never whipped out hate                 in the form of a belt; You never left a mark. But it didn't hurt your                case any less; It didn't hurt us any less. I offered my bruised
face                for you to vent your rage on; I took hard words and hard shoves
so...            the rest of them didn't have to. (You had too many kids by the way.)


"Go              for broke" doesn't apply when it comes to kids. With Mom
away"          you never had a chance, and I get that, but seven punching bags?
"Stop              at two in the next life, don't go for seven. You couldn't handle
it."                  You didn't deserve us, I don't care if you do now. Do
"You               even deserve us now? You've changed, you're stronger. You
are                 not the man you used to be, and I get that. But that man was fine
hurting          me whenever he didn't get his way, or work went bad. You left
me."                alone in the dark to rot into this hateful, bitter man I am today.

You                are a good father, now. You're raising the youngest with so much
care.              But I don't know if that's enough for me. God help me, but
I                     can't forgive you, even now. Even after all the effort I
know             you're putting in, because it's not for my sake. It's for his, and
that                isn't good enough. It's too little too late. I'd sign "I love you" but...

I just
don't
any more.

Time is wrinkled hands of a father
Reminding me that there is still more to do here
Time has not run on empty
Smiles lifting pages of the history channel
Time has seasoned us into working machines
Grinding geared up perspective
Time will not forget this body
Each tick a reminder of phenomenal
Time asks one thing of us
Do not waste a single moment
Because that may be all you have