Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I hear daddy issues is what they're calling it nowadays the unexplainable flinching upon slamming doors and voices at a decible level just high enough to make your chest tremble daddy issues? it wasn't that I didn't have a father because I did I do except there's an undeniable difference between the two between being seven and seventeen between ice cream and bottles of whiskey maybe it was the drinking that drew you away but I wasn't the same as the other girls my age who drank themselves insensible for no apparent reason every other weekend no, rather I drank myself into a comfortable state of amnesia where I could no longer remember his hands or his lips or the smile that reminded me I was weak and in love I drank until I could no longer remember that I loved with a love that was not returned in full or at all you drank on sunday when I would tote my atrocity of luggage around the hall and down the staircase throwing it in your face that I was leaving it wasn't intentional daddy issues we haven't spoken in months I can't remember the last time I heard you say the words and it hurts too much to try and imagine it myself it feels fabricated and forced it sounds like slamming doors and roaring voices daddy issues I always loved you more
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
gestalt; noun
I hear daddy issues is what they're calling it nowadays the unexplainable flinching upon slamming doors and voices at a decible level just high enough to make your chest tremble daddy issues? it wasn't that I didn't have a father because I did I do except there's an undeniable difference between the two between being seven and seventeen between ice cream and bottles of whiskey maybe it was the drinking that drew you away but I wasn't the same as the other girls my age who drank themselves insensible for no apparent reason every other weekend no, rather I drank myself into a comfortable state of amnesia where I could no longer remember his hands or his lips or the smile that reminded me I was weak and in love I drank until I could no longer remember that I loved with a love that was not returned in full or at all you drank on sunday when I would tote my atrocity of luggage around the hall and down the staircase throwing it in your face that I was leaving it wasn't intentional daddy issues we haven't spoken in months I can't remember the last time I heard you say the words and it hurts too much to try and imagine it myself it feels fabricated and forced it sounds like slamming doors and roaring voices daddy issues I always loved you more
sydneynicole
Written by
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem