I stare at your words. What do I tell you?
That I do not love you, and I do not believe you love me?
That you left me, hurt me, ****** me up?
That because of your absence, this house is filled with medication?
About the nights I spend screaming and shaking,
or the twelve year old me who cut her wrists?
Do I tell you about my sister? My half sisters?
One is depressed and bipolar.
One is depressed and psychotic.
One is depressed and addicted.
Do I man up and tell you,
you're nothing to me. I hate you.

*Thanks, dad.