Hate hides behind motherly kisses.
It festers deep within those gargoyle hisses.
It scabs over, but never truly heals.
The right person can unearth them,
Like time capsule seals.
Daddy, you were sometimes there, but always scared.
My father was a child before, until you became his thorn.
Concrete steps were your way into his heart.
Looking back, that idea wasn't very smart.
Those scabs in the past are left feeling damp.
They never truly heal and I feel like a *****.