My dad once built a shed out of old doors

Each odd colours he'd collect along his travels, when one grew tired and porous another would take its place

Even the floor was doors

I dreamt of opening them to secret places and posted letters through the slots hoping it would reach them

But they never opened, and all that remained was my father grey and aged in his shed made of doors.

I miss my father
he isn't dead
only pretends to be
he dims the light
behind the curtains
to make it seem
as though no one is home
as though no one
is dusting the family photos
sweeping cobwebs
off the best of times
we don't talk
about the worst of times
then again
we don't talk much at all
still, he was a good teacher
I am a good student
I have learned my lesson
closed my curtains
dimmed my lights
locked my door
©KNL

Father chases me,

we run around the table --


three times, always three.

I am pulling weeds from the garden and I want to scream "there is nothing wrong with you there is nothing wrong with you there is nothing wrong you"
I am replacing you with something beautiful and hard to maintain because I value appearances more than growth
There is nothing wrong with dandelions i swear, please do not develop a complex, I just cannot love you unless someone else does
My father spent years weeding me and trust me it gets easier
it hurts less if you learn to hate yourself the same way
There is nothing wrong with you I just have to do this he is coming over later and he might remember he doesn't love me if he sees you here
There is nothing wrong with you but I will **** you still
Like my father
Commended for everything I grow in the wake of what I ****
There is nothing wrong with you I scream but I will throw you away and you will wonder what is wrong with you anyway
He told me I have room to grow before hugging me goodbye
There is nothing wrong with you he said
I just don't want you here

I’m sorry I couldn’t forget,
but you’re my first memory

I’m sorry you left,
it’s brutal how you
were able to forget
as I kept remembering,
bleeding,
and remembering still

I beg of you to forget me,
so I can forget me too

Let me keep my life,
and you keep yours

here's to a package of
Marlboro Reds
in the hands of
someone other than
the Marlboro Man
standing in
for those slack-jawed outlaws
my heroes now lack jaws
tongues
lungs

I swear it's been too long
since I inhaled manhood
The Great Darrell Winfield
rolled
packed
and filtered
into the only thing I know
that makes a man a man
the essence of
cowboy boots and farmer's tan
in every drag

see, I inhale my heroes
all the dusty red-necked
cowboys
Darrell Winfield
and my dad
men whose lives
went up in smoke
to coat my throat
in my own self-righteousness
I'm frightened this
is all that I'll have left
of him
lung cancer
and the lingering stench
of cigarettes

he always smelled
of cigarettes

he'd pull me into these
firm embraces
he held so long
that he'd suffocate me
in tacky business
and cigarette smoke
masked only
faintly
by a poor man's
cologne
still I breathed him in
until I'd start to choke
it was too much man to handle

my grandpa told me
“smoking doesn't send you
straight to Hell,
but it sure does make you smell
like you've already been there”

he was
a grown man
cursing
crying
lying
dying by himself
trying to drown out the inferno
with a case of beer
but sobriety finds you sometime
and I'd rather suffocate in cigarettes
than lose him altogether

and even if he smells like Hell
at least that means he made it back

i wish my mother and father never met.

that is the first thought that crosses to me in my mind whenever things get rough. how i wish they never met, how i yearn for a reality where their paths diverged, where their match was never forged. it's the kind of pain that lies within their union, a relentless ache that seeps into the very essence of my being.

i wish my mother and father never met.

why did the fate allow the stars to align? i did not imagine that in a single moment of cosmic collision, a seed was planted, and i was condemned to bear its bitter fruit. i never knew that the torment would bring forth by the tendrils of their oblivious love entwined.

i wish my mother and father never met.

to envision a world where their lived caused me
chaos. i was craving for too much love and care. a sanctuary where can i break free from the chains of their discord, where my soul can flourish untainted by the weight of their discontent.

i wish my mother and father never met.

in the most grief of longing, i was forced to find my own strength and to stand up on my own two feet. i have learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their fusion, to the salvage shards of happiness wreckage they left behind.

i wish my mother and father never met.

i wish they didn't. i have always dreamt of a life unburdened by the weight of their presence, where the fear of love and its subsequent pain does not linger within me. oh, how i'd die for a world where their love did not cast shadows on my soul, where the scars of their struggles do not color the way i perceive affection. in this alternate existence, i would not carry the weight of their past, their own echoes of their own sorrow. i imagine a life where the walls i've built around my heart would crumble, where vulnerability is no longer a cause for alarm. a life where i am unafraid to offer my own affections, knowing they will be cherished and reciprocated in kind.

i wish my father and mother had never met. i just wanted to take a leap of hope from the love that transcends the limits of blood and anguish. am i really that hard to love?

Dear Dad,
That’s all I ever wanted you to be. A dad, my dad. I didn’t expect you to be a great dad, or even a good dad, but you never made any attempt to be anything close to a dad at all. You did try to be other things to me though. A dictator, a manipulator, even a ****** partner. You may say that I wanted it, you might even actually believe that, but I assure you that my compliance was not an indication of my enjoyment. Compliance was simply the only option you gave me. I saw the way you looked at me long before you ever put your hands on me, but you waited. You waited until you’d pushed me to the brink of insanity. You made me question my reality so much that I’d believe anything you told me. Then on top of that, you found a way to make everyone in our family question every word that I ever uttered in preparation for the day that I’d tell them what you’d done because you knew that eventually, I would. You planned out every piece of what you did so perfectly. Even after I’d come out with the truth you made sure that the walls around me crumbled before yours did. All I ever wanted was for you to be my dad, but you couldn’t even give me that.

You called for me
after I uttered your name
in a passing conversation,
but it’s too late now, father

You see,
I’ve already drank
your poison,
I savored it to the last drop

It’s in my bloodstream,
it’s in my hollow stomach,
it’s pouring over
everything that I am today

My soul is mine,
you can’t touch it,
it’s achingly burning from a
fire I can’t extinguish alone

Your name is laced
with mine, I’m sorry
I couldn’t forget you

But please let me
keep my soul,
It’s mine,
but can I keep it?

It burns me,
let me keep it anyway