The stories I've written about you.
The unrealities I've imagined about you.
The person you say you are.
The parts of you that you hide away-or try to hide away from me.
The "I love you" and "I'll be a better father from now on"
The bottles laying around in your apartment.
The muddled words and swirling of thoughts and feelings.
Empty promises of sobriety fall on deaf ears and a stone cold guarded heart.
Father.
..Father.
Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.
But you are a father before all of that.
You are my father.