This is not a poem
But an ongoing problem

I slapped my dad the other day
I was so tired that's all I can say
He saw it coming
I didn't ...

My palm carried all the anger since my childhood
It carried all those years of pain
and I just swung it for less than a second.

Slap!!!

It felt good for just a second,
just for a second.
Looked at mum to apologize
But seeing her face drenched with tears wanted me to slap him again.
However her silence and exhausted eyes
drained all the rage out of me.

I had to walk out
I was scared of what else I could do.
I should be thankful
Because some people don't have a father
But I need a dad not a father.

They talked it out and apparently they cleaned their mess.
while I'm here crying grease onto my white shirt.
Trying my best to pull the ends of my lips towards my ears.
Because I have a father and I am blessed.