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Jul 2014
father dearest,
i remember you telling me:
"your mother's insides are
burnt and black no good."
of course, me being the child i was,
i thought you meant that
she was evil and that was
the reason you didn't love
her anymore. my mother
could never be evil.
i loved her.

father dearest,
i'm starting to see a
line of reflection between
you two and that is the only
thing that keeps you together.
my mother's insides may
be black and burnt and no good,
but your heart is made of coal.
my mother drinks herself sick
every night and at this age i
didn't know what blacking out was.
i told you i cried and screamed at midnight.
i told you i thought my mommy was dead.
you scoffed and said "what a *****."

father dearest,
you said my mother never cared
about me. you said she smoked
and drank when she was pregnant
with me and that she kept on doing
it in front of me later on.
you said you would never touch
her with a ten foot pole.
she is only a woman.
she is only a woman who breaks down
at sight of a picture us
when i was little and only
being able to sob out:
"we were so innocent."

father dearest,
she is tired. she is lonely.
she is almost 50 and she is
still waiting on her fairy tale
ending. you couldn't be patient
with her? you couldn't try to help
her? you say you don't love
her because she sins in front of me.
you say you are all knowing and
that i just haven't realized it yet.
but then i remember.

oh father dearest, i remember.
i remember that my mother's insides
are burnt and black and no good and
i remember that you are all knowing
and that i just haven't realized it yet.
but do you realize that i cannot
realize something that isn't there?
i haven't seen your face in seven months
and you still cannot answer my question
why she waits for me to stop looking at her
as she lights her 7th cigarette of the day.
Written by
ℋℒ  Georgia
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