My dad was a bus driver when I was a kid always a thrill when he'd take me out In his bus got me away from the house for the
day
Away from my abusive mother that dad was totally aware of I would sit behind the driver seat to watch my dad driving his bus
He was well liked by all passengers for dad was so kind and polite and helpful
to all
He would drive through all those quaint little villages to pick up all the regular passengers I was so proud of him
He was my dad and I missed so much when he passed away and at his funeral
I spoke and said If I had a chance of one more day I'd wish for one more ride on a bus with him such a wonderful father he
was

Black wall,
                   dividing us all.
My hands outstretched,
                    hoping you'd call.

Living in a daydream,
                protected and loved.
Here I am now, seventeen;
                             still unloved.

Why can't I reach you?
Dad,
           Why?

Through this black wall,
                  I may not be able to see you
but I can still smell the alcohol
                   of abuse through this deja vu.

My eyes yet closed,
                 daydream gone away;
Vivid memories imposed,
                 every Tuesday and Thursday.

Images I cannot conceal
                                  of hands imprinted within.
Hitting rock bottom;
                              since then, I've been pinned.

Dear father,

I still remember the last time I saw you

It's funny, because you looked just the same as you always did
Like someone
Who was never really mine.

Like a stranger in disguise
Who's reality only exists
When I close my eyes and fantasize about you being in my life

But I guess
When you heard you should live your life without
Regret
You mistook that for my name

And I wonder if you will ever understand the pain
Of knowing someone only when you imagine them
Or loving someone who thought
Never talk to strangers
Was a lesson best learnt by example

But they say actions speak louder than words
And you became so consumed by your own self worth to really give a **** about who you hurt

So you became the expert
At manipulating words
Like turning
I love yous into sorrys
And
Tomorrows into yesterdays
Until it was safe to say I couldn't count on you

Dear father,

Because of you
I constantly found myself falling in love with things that could never love me back

I became infatuated with sandcastle and snowflakes

Addicted to temporary moments
Addicted to broken

Thought if I learnt to fix things
Then somehow
I might find the manuscript
To piecing the shattered part of my being whole again

Because of you
I spent years trying to cover this skin that you left me with
Tried decorating these scars
With tattooed hopes
To remind myself
That sometimes
Some things
Were made to last forever

Because of you,
For years I avoided looking into the mirror
Because I never truly knew
If you could love someone
You only ever met in passing

You see
I mistook your ***** for water
I never realised I was internally drowning in your poison
I thought I needed you to stay afloat

It took me a long time to realise
That ***** was just your way of relieving yourself from blame

You became a box full of things
I packed away the day you left
But I've stopped trying to hold on to your burden

So I've taken out my smile
And I'll wear it with pride

And Dear father,
Did you know
That if you repeat a word enough times
Then eventually the word will start to lose it's meaning?

And I've stopped wishing I was still young enough to understand
What the word father meant

And now no know
That if I ever see you again
Then you will look just the same as you always did

Like someone
who doesn't deserve to be mine

"My daughter, I have seemed to misplace
Instead of my darling, I received a disgrace
The poor old stork, to bring me this girl
Should retire his work, a shame on this world
Look at how she wishes she were,
Watching the world grow up without her
The luck she bares is all but good
"Listen and do, like proper girls should!"
Where's her beauty and womanlike charm?
All she has is an urge for self harm
To lose a daughter is a shame on its own
To receive a disappointment brings disgrace to my home
If returns were an option, I'd do it in a tick
Yet here she is and its making me sick
Counting the days til she's out of my hair
But for now I'll keep acting like I care"

Sitting in the car
Waiting for traffic to move
The cold rain tumbling down the window
The drops collide into a single line.
Inside my father and I wait in the warm heat.

We probably just left to get pizza,
Or Chinese food,
A regular Friday night.

The sound of the radio hums softly in the background.
The soft rumbling of the engine.
The drumming of the rain.

Not a word is spoken
between my father and I,
Each of us just ******* up the silence.
Breathing peacefully.

Over the radio comes a song.
A little old, though well known.
Ee-e-e-um-um-a-weh
Wimoweh, wimoweh, wehoweh, wimoweh.

We both know this song.
Grinning we turn the radio up.
Singing along. Dancing along.
Um-um-a-weh.

With each beat of the drum
My father touches the brake.
Quickly, rapidly
Making the car ****.

The car behinds us honks the horn
Making us laugh harder.
My dad persists.
Continuing in this child’s play.

Suddenly it doesn’t matter,
that it is pouring, or
that we are stuck in traffic.
It only matters that we are having fun.

The song ends.
The radio gets turned back down.
We return to our former silent state.