it was never about how you yelled at me it was about how the vein stuck out of your neck like it wanted to pop because it couldn’t stand being part of you anymore and how your knuckles turned the brightest shade of white when you gripped the steering wheel desperate for some control in your life which i will never hold against you but when you tell me how i disgust you i lose another part of myself but i can never tell you how you are gripping my skin and pulling it away you think i harm myself but did you ever wonder why i have such an impulse it’s certainly no thanks to the map you showed me written on my hands in violent red that leads to a dark place inside me and there’s no turning back once you get on the boat that leads you there through the sobs and sorrows no one said it’s easy but i’ve been sitting here on the doorstep for the past fourteen years wondering where my father is and who the imposter is inside who dares to put his hands on me and claims my tears sting him when they touch his thick skin claiming he loves me and he would be lost without me but we have nothing.