I tried denying the fact,

Tried to carry back,

Who I might have been.



But you ruined me.

Crippled my soul.

Withered the me I could have been.

Now I’ll never know



My splinter soul

You killed for pleasure,

And tomorrow spattered the white walls

As you slaughter her clarity.

Forever, I may as well have known.



My family almost immediately

Had replenished whole,

Got back on their feet,

And begun a smile.

The sadness muted like defeating heat.

Or like clearing fogged, trickling tiles.



I realize I could have ----

Might have… existed better.

Perhaps with a higher feather.

To seize my voyage of safety.



But under the circumstances

That’s not achievable.

Highly improbable.



Much so, I’m not content

On what life left me.

What you left me.



I’m still struggling

To get to my feet.

I’m still in the middle of climbing a mountain,

Suspending to two sides

Of a rope attached to my belt, mounting.

My lifeline.

My sanity.



I want to keep both

In the same two hands.

If I renounce my hold on one,

The other follows.



So I claim in both my hands

What’s mine

I hold tight.

Standing on toes of tips of height

I put my trust to hang on that ledge of fright.



Just barley hanging,

Touching that stonewall.

Trying to stay in one place,

I fear to face,

To blunder.



At times I make the mistake

Of looking down,

And becoming aware.



Terrorized by the height.





Now you see…

I try.

I cry.

I relied on you.

I chose.

I dosed and didn’t see

What you put me through.



You murdered me,

And it’s too late to restore me.

Not with standing away

A single tear drop.

Are you bored of me?



You killed me along with my childhood.

I hope you enjoyed your fatherhood.

Because I was unaware of what you had done.



Did you really love me,

Or was it an act.

The fact

That you couldn’t love was clear,

But I don’t hate you my dear.



Father to daughter,

My love was there.

Something you have to live with

Something you have to recognize you never gave back.

Is that clear?



It’s not my fault?

It’s not your fault?

Then whose is it’s?



That person has to take responsibility,

And give back.

Apologize and beg.



Because I am not my own.

I can’t help, but blame myself.

I have no choice, but to agree

Because there is no individual to aid me.



My recovery can’t be complete

I can’t see the world as whole anymore.

I can’t be forever young, simply full, or pure.



I’m tainted, sour, and broken.

It’s your turn to carry a burden

To know.

How my heart has sorrowfully hardened.

Where I can’t be dependable of anyone so easily.



It’s time we both know

What you truly had done to me.