i was just a kid a young boy wondering where his father was
telling the other kids in my kindergarten first second and third grade classes that i didn’t have a father
and that never felt like a lie seeing as you never had the time for parenting media and fiction told me what a father should be
and you never did live up to that the image i had in my head of what it meant for a father to be loving
and and and i am drunk
i am drunk and angry and hurting
but never enough to pick up the phone not that you would ever call and not that i would ever answer
and i am still licking the wounds that an absent childhood left behind wondering when this void will close waiting for a scab to form that is no longer so **** flimsy
and my tattoo artist tells me that his father was like mine but also worse and when his father died everything he felt for him died, too
and and and i wonder if that will happen to me, too
will all the memories the hurt outweighing the good finally burn out? will i stop longing for something i never had?
will the fact that you never wanted me as a daughter or as a son stop aching so **** much?
will you have to die for me to no longer be afraid?