I interpreted your language incorrectly
I thought your beautiful meant stay
I've learned that words can have a million different meanings and
I will never know them all.

Blank mind, cloudy vision
the satisfying crack of collision
from an elbow swung, or punch thrown
and in my ears, a buzzing drone

I breath deeply, and start to think
of how I was pushed, to the brink
I really do regret it now
I'd fix it but, I don't know how

But it feels so good, at the time
but the mind doing it, isn't mine
It's not the nice sweet child
with polite voice, and manners mild

But which am I and which is me?
Which one of those am I going to be?
The child, who's weak yet nice?
Or the monster, nobody crosses twice?

Sometimes I get one of those nostalgic feelings rush through me whenever I get a whiff of fresh plaster or spackle. It reminds me of all those times my dad would have to patch up another hole in one of the walls. At one point he would only do it once a week. When you know that there’ll just be more the next day, why not wait a while and fix them all at the same time? Eventually he stopped fixing them altogether. I used to think it meant it was okay and that when I got angry enough I could just put a hole in the wall too and add to the collection of broken bits of my family. When my parents discovered the accumulation of chasms in my wall, my dad made me learn how to fix them because I was not allowed to react the same way as my brother. Needless to say, I rarely put my hand or foot through the walls after the first 2 times I had to fix them. I wish there was some way they could have managed to get my brother to fix the voids he’d created. Perhaps, he’d have learned how much the damage you inflict can affect those around you. I know I certainly did.

I could tell you that it's 4 am and I’ve been reading through our old texts and that I still miss you.

But the truth is,
It's only 8 pm, and I'm really tired
and I've erased your texts long ago.
The only thing I have to remember you is my memory
And we both know is not good at all

Daddy, I have grown up and
Daddy, I have become a woman and
Daddy, I do not need you anymore
I have learned to live without your love
to starve myself from your embraces
because I got tired of expecting something
that wouldn't ever come
Exhaustion is a beast
it eats up all your reserves
and greedily asks for more, but
Daddy, my soul has no more to give
I have nothing left to feed it
mo more energy to devote to waiting anymore
I am broke
and you never came
And I wish I could have packed up
and moved on, but
Daddy, I never heard you say it,
I am proud of you
Five single syllable words
Oh, I heard them plenty
when I had gotten an a
or when I won a medal
Or when I did
something so spectacular
that I was lucky to wear your last name
but, Daddy, what about all the other days
you were only proud of me
when I made you look good
so what about my car crash
what about my fractured fingers
what about the times I broke my heart
So they weren't my crowning glory
and they definitely weren't my favorite memories
but they're still mine, and they still define me
And I don't know, can you be ok with that?
Can you look at me, busted head and all
and say, I am proud of you?
Daddy, I have grown up and
Daddy, I have become a woman and
Daddy, I do not need you anymore but
Daddy, that doesn't mean I want you to leave

I want to give you all of me because
you need it more than I do
You need my soft hands,
my supple heart, my forgiving words
So much more
than I need myself, my time, my being
More than I need my life itself

See, I’d forget myself to help you remember yourself
I’d let you steal my heart to fix your own
All so you can feel whole again,

but when you don’t need me anymore
when my fingers don’t fix your pain
and my heart doesn’t sooth over your wounds
and you decide you’re better off without me,
don’t forget,

you weren’t a chapter in my life
You were my whole book
And, yeah, you can write yourself a new one
With your perfected body becoming the star
And you can go,
and leave me
and start a new novel in your life

but me, see, I can’t move on
because in fixing you
I broke myself
And I can’t even write a new sentence
Without every single word being tainted by your breath
Let alone start a new books