You show up like storms,
never a forecast,
just thunder at my door
when your pockets run dry.

Never came to the game,
never called on my birthday,
but you need a favor now—
and suddenly I’m “son” again.

You left more silence
than any man should,
but your guilt only wakes
when your wants outweigh your shame.

I learned how to shave
without your hands,
learned how to fight
without your voice behind me.

You missed the bruises,
the broken hearts,
the nights I cried
'cause I thought I wasn't enough.

Now you speak like
we're a bond unbroken
like love can be bartered
for a tank of gas or a place to crash.

But I’m not your wallet,
I’m not your last resort,
I’m the kid you forgot
until it got convenient.

So here’s what you need to know:
You may have helped make me,
but you never made me strong.
I did that on my own.