Forgiveness.  Is it an act or is it a state?  You have wronged me so many times that for me, it has become a state, a constant state.  I don’t even feel the cathartic aftermath of “letting go” anymore because now my forgiveness is preemptive.  You are my father; we sons and daughters are conditioned to love you unconditionally.  But to what extent?  To our expense?  

Love is not synonymous with loyalty.  My own shortcomings have made me sure of this, for I have loved another while making love to another.  When is it my turn to turn on you?  When do I get to scream, and you listen?  I’ve been screaming my whole life but your own self-hatred has made you deaf indefinitely to anything but a voice that spews from the depths of your pain, but tis a voice that is not your own, much like the one that exists inside me, regurgitating your dreams at the dinner table.  I will not become a soul disfigured by the fear of your disapproval.

Have I become the epitome of hypocrisy?  I preach self-expression to those who know nothing but their own self-suppression, though when I am with you I hide my spirit, gone are all traces of a free soul, I imprison my spirit in fear and submission.  A man of command and a child of madness, face to face trying their **** best to love one another, but only one has given up trying to understand the other.