Your finger was good enough
For the first of my fledgling steps
As steady and firm I held
New step seemed easier than the first
Now your hand I see reach out
From beyond reality's veil
Gently on my shoulder placed
Nudging me on to those steps
You left me to walk by myself.

Your face was good enough
For first of my fumbling doubts
Each thought seemed clearer than the last.
Illumed by the faith in your face.
Your smile  i see each starry night
Light setting my face aflame
Filling me,your spirit resolute
For each  demon you left me to face.

Your breath was good enough
Felt it warm, so close to my face
My hurts and tears seemed naught
As its warmth breathed to my being life.
Your hug now I feel in the breeze.
Its gush telling me you are here.
Feeling the joy and the pain
That you left me here to gain.

There's something that doesn't feel right
When I moved out and told you this was best for me
Or when I didn't say goodbye to my little brother because he was outside playing
are both things I did for logical reasons
But if it was so logical
Why am I laying here alone questioning my reasoning for what I did?
Because now things just don't feel right.

I remember being just able to fall asleep. until i received the worst news a 12-year old girl could ever receive in her life. my brother had woken me up. “dad’s dead.” he said. i shook my head “no you’re lying he’s coming home tonight. stop lying.” then my mom came in my room with tears streaming down her face. “it’s true, sweetheart. daddy died.” her voice, breaking with every word. i went into the bathroom and broke down. i screamed and sobbed, dropping to the bathroom floor. this can’t be happening. he was supposed to be coming home. he was on a cruise ship about to come home. he can’t be dead. i was only 12 years old. ever since that night i found out, my life has never been the same.

i see things
they lurk around the corner
waiting for me to ruin myself
in the limelight of eyes

i hear things
that whisper as i try to think
they try to make me do things
i don’t want to do

i feel things
urges to do something bad
something my mother wouldn’t approve
but then i remind myself

she was the one who put them there.

hello, all
I'd like to make a call
to action.

some things have gone wrong
as I've drifted along
to here

and now I'm more alone
and my mine is trying to atone
for my father's sins.

I am beyond frustrated
even more cheated
on my mother's behalf.

she said to me
"more than one disappointment and promise me,
you will flee"

theres no other ploy
that will better destroy
your life."

I know this is the truth
even as I grasp the last of my youth
I've seen it.

I wish I could do more
but my mother has her own armor.
she will be okay.

so, always put yourself first
and don't be cursed
to just survive.

live.

Drunk and rambunctious
I follow in his footsteps
It's only fitting

Even though I miss you so
I look up at the up at the creamsicle skies you present to me
& I reminisce about how sweet life can be
I feel less alone in those quiet instants
Though I usually never show it
Some days I'm more fragile than others
Yet, I've learned to love every second of it
Solace in the silence
I like to be able to slowly arise from my slumber
I like to be able to hop on my bike
& feel what the breeze has in store for me
I like to listen to the trees when they tell me about their dreams
I like it when the sun kisses me so
Or when the bugs play hide and seek in my hair with
the leafs that want me to take them home
I'm not ready to die.

Entry ~
You were the first man that ever broke my heart. It was the day I was born. You held me in your arms and made me a promise that would rip us both apart. You promised to love me unconditionally from the start. But time passed and over the years those words faded from your heart. In the presence of a war when you had one foot out the door. There are vacancies in my memories where a father should have played a part. Like teaching me to drive a car, or telling me don't believe boys that say I love you from the start. Instead, I looked at every boy with tears in my eyes and willingly accepted every single lie, thinking maybe if I part my thighs they'll learn to love how broken I am inside, but they never do. Just like you they leave without a single clue and I'm left alone, used, wishing my daddy would have loved me too. And I'm not writing this to blame you, or break you, or tell you I hate you. I've made mistakes too. Ones deeply rooted in my relationship with you. And I get that maybe you didn't have a clue that your daughter was struggling in the world without you. But I relied on you to set the standard for boys I would let into my heart. By the time I was sixteen, I felt like a tortured piece of art. I learned to love myself of course. Over the years of ripping myself apart I learned to chart the darkness in my own heart. I don't blame you anymore for my broken parts. I'm healed from being angry at you. I'm writing this to tell you I'm sorry for failing you, and I'm sorry you failed me too.