In your absence,
I have learned many a thing on my own:
How to feed a family,
How to dress a wound,
How to console the broken-hearted,
How to press a shirt,
How to count by fives,
What creams to apply for itchy hives,
How to listen for cars on the road,
How to lighten a parental load.
Physically you were there,
But not as a loving unit,
More like aberrations,
You sat there in your depression,
On your king sized bed,
Time slipped by,
Many nights I sat alone and cried.
Now you don't know your twenty-something daughter.
In your presence I learned to love,
In a warped and twisted manner.
A trail of men lay lifeless behind me,
Bodies twisted, faces contorted in agony,
I ****** them dry,
My life has too much turmoil for most to bear,
But that's alright, I'm used to people not being there.
You fantasize about a relationship with me,
But it's too late,
I'm the daughter you refused to see.
These showers of praise from you are lies from snakes,
A few dollars here and there is all you think it takes,
To undo a life of torment,
You are mistaken.
In your absence I have learned many a thing,
How to hold a hand,
How to speak my mind,
How tightly abandonment actually binds.
Sick people raise sick children. Only the strong change.