It has become a recurring theme for fathers to abandon their children
Leaving dust in their wake.
Carving out their children's hearts by their own hands, from absence, from an abundance of control.
Engraving a broken legacy of neglect and corrupted vigilance into the flesh and bones of their children, a path warped from dysfunction and lies.
It's a long standing debate, if the ones that leave, are as much to blame as the ones who stay, inflicting pain like plague that sets deep in the heart, left rotting and unattended.
As if they've forgotten you’re their lineage.
As if one day you won't be the only evidence that he existed at all.
23 of his chromosomes reside in your genetic structure.
I know what he gave me, which ugly pieces of myself belong to him, what he created, this ridge on my nose and the lies he spoke.
I still catch his words in my head, pouring out, thick like poison, hanging heavy on my lips like lemon and honey, too sweet or too bitter I can't tell.
I live only knowing that the truth of what I am left with is a lesson often I find too hard to swallow