People think I have everything I want
But everything is nothing I'll ever **need

tomorrow is not promised
it is a gift you might not get

tomorrow is not guaranteed
that's something you should never forget

cherish today as if it is your last
make peace with all the sins of your past

speak the words you said you never would
stand in a place where you have never stood

see the world with brand new eyes
remember your lows but bask in your highs

father: n. a man who gives care and protection to someone or something.



The last time I saw you, really saw you,
You told me you loved me.
But you didn't mean it.
At least not like you used to. Like you used to pretend to.
Before your other two kids were born.

I guess I must have been a mistake.
An unplanned middle child.
One that you didn't want.
I came after your first, before your third and fourth.
I am my least favourite number.
Is that why it took you two years to say "I love you"?

I can not even remember how those words sound when crafted in your voice.
Unless they were hiding tension.
Or guilt.
Or obligation.
I never heard them for what they mean.
Your excuse was always:
Mom was watching, and you needed to look like a man.
The police guards were watching, and you needed to look like a man.
Your fellow inmates were watching, and you needed to look like a man.
Your other women were watching, and you needed to look like a man.
Your job wasn't to look like a man.
It wasn't to be a man.
It wasn't to sound like a man, think like a man, portray a man.
Your job was to be a father, to love me and make it known that I am your daughter and you are proud of me, even if you never show it. Or even say it.

I expected that from you. I expected you to know I was going to one day become something you were proud of, something you could say to make people think differently about you, because you raised  me to your standards and look how I came out. I expected you to show me what it's like to have a life, I expected you to teach me how to drive, I expected you to help me with homework, and pick me up from school, and
I expected you to care about who I am as a person, because I am your daughter.

Instead, you taught me that when I'm angry, upset, frustrated, confused, stressed, unhappy, depressed, content, or feeling any emotion whatsoever, I should run to alcohol and drink until I can feel nothing.

Instead, you taught me that you didn't care if I carved words into my skin, as long as I wasn't hurting anyone else I was fine and even if I did commit suicide it would be selfish and I shouldn't be scared of the demons in my head because they can't hurt me, they're trapped inside and they have no way to break the walls and besides being scared of yourself makes you a coward and a ***** and that's ridiculous.

Instead, you taught me that crying never gets me anywhere and if I wanted something I should just take it because no one will ever know it was me and no one will ever suspect a blonde girl in a dress to steal from a shop and as long as I look as innocent as I can then I can get whatever I need without ever paying for it because I can pay with my innocence.

Instead, you taught me that when you are drinking is the only time you will ever be proud of me for the one line in the play I landed and that even though you were never there to see it you knew I did good because I'm your daughter but even though I messed up because I looked into the crowd to find your face and forgot my line when I saw my mother with an empty seat beside her, I am still part of your family and we are good at saying things we don't mean and leaving.

Instead, you taught me that my sister will always be better than me and there is nothing I do to compete because even if I was stronger than her I would always be too small to fight her even if it was for self defense and if I try it and end up with a black eye it was my fault because I was warned of the cyclone of rage that lived within her chest and I should have known I did not stand a chance against her for she is better than me in every way.

Instead, you taught me that spending a day out in the sun working on your truck and sweating all over the ground and accidentally spilling your beer all over you which made the grass stick to you which you hated because you hate grass was better than spending a day with me inside watching movies and eating ice cream in the air conditioning with the dogs laying on my lap and cuddling with me because they know that if they did not do so I would be alone.

Instead, you taught me that I was worthless and didn't deserve love because who could ever love someone with a body full of scars and stretchmarks make you ugly because you were not born with those lines on your body, they got there because you put them there, you wanted them there so you can suffer the consequences of your own actions.

I taught myself what it's meant to be alive. I taught myself how to drive. When I didn't know how to do my homework, I didn't do it. I ride the bus home from school because no one cares enough to come pick me up and

I am the only one who cares about who I am as a person because I was taught at an early age that I am the only one I can rely on.

Where were you when I wanted you to come see the plays I was in?
Absent. "I don't like plays."
What about the guard shows?
Absent. "I don't like guard shows."
What about my marching shows?
Absent. "I don't like marching bands."

All of this is sickening.
The most sickening of all,
Is knowing that you expect me to love you even after all the **** you put me through,
like nothing
ever
happened.

But it did.
And every time I look at you,
I see hurt
pain
rejection
loss
death
addiction
abandonment
why have you made it a habit to prove to me how much you hate me?

You're supposed to be my father,
but you don't fit the definition.

f.m.s.

Her body is
Calligraphy.
Her attitude is
Old English.

Her eyes are
Morse Code.
Her smile is
Hieroglyphics;

Her soul is
Cuneiform.
Her words
are Meroitic.

But her mind is
Masonic Writing
Where as she keeps
So many secrets.*

- (A.F)

"When the sins of my father,
weigh down in my soul,
and the pain of my mother,
will not let me go"


you told me when i'd grow up i'd understand some day,
but ever since we went our seperate ways I could never grip why it had to be this way,
back and forth until you slammed the door and went away,
To come back for more and slap your "*****" across the face,

But somethin brought you back to your senses like it always did,
hate your life and blamed your wife but loved your kids,
you staind her mind and made her cry and punched and kicked until she layed to die with bloodshot eyes you ****** *****,

All the alcohol and drugs you did just made me sick,
only ******* hit their women,
I shoulda sprayed a clip,

Sometimes I wished you'd never come back to me cuz I saw my mama truly happy,
and I know that deep inside she loved you once,
but one punch was enough and the rest that came was just too much,
every day you showed up drunk,
it was the same old same and still she showed her love,
I guess you never could appreciate her for what she truly was,

The image of a beautiful lady bruised up is tatted in my brain,
its guys like you that give guys like me a bad name,
cuz "we're all the same" and that could never change,
but one **** up's enough,
who'd walk back to pain?

Bruises fade and scars are covered,
but emotional damage sticks with you,
I love my mother and I know you loved her too,
and what you did wasn't right to you,
but what happened, happened,
I shoulda stuck a knife in you,

She tried for you but won for us,
me and my sisters,
I love em so much and I tell you what,
if they meet a punk like you i'll rip out his tongue,

I won't forgive you for what you done,
but you're still my dad and i'm still your son-

Then I look at you as a person,
I saw through your eyes and heard you cry,
you were always hurtin,
and I don't why but i'm like that too,
I guess we're the same in a way,
maybe that's why I don't like you,

Well i'm older now and I kinda get it,
I had some time to think and I wish you didn't leave,
we left the house but you left for good,
now it hurts every time I drink,
every drug I do reminds me of you,
maybe i'm just tryna hide the pain every time I fly away,
20 year old alcoholic,
i'm in your shoes every step I take,
I even look like you for christ's sake,
its like we got the same brain,

The day you left it hit me,
and ever since it felt like somethin's missing,
but for reasons unexplained I don't wana see your face,
its not because I hate but maybe I just changed,
all that I can say is I hope that you're okay,
my bad for bein cold but my feelings complicate,
but the fact that you're only human is clouded,
all the times that you shouted and pounded your fists in her again and again,
****** me off to no end,
i'm chokin on regret of not jumpin in to bust your head,
i'd give up everything to know you're dead,
nothin's left but painful memories-


"when the sins of my father,
Weigh down in my soul,
and the pain of my mother,
will not let me go,"
i'm consumed in regret,
I shoulda stepped in,
but please forgive me mother,
I was too young-