I hate the way that you’ve stained me
Because i love you so much
And yet in my deepest love still
Comes the broken promise of your mistake

You taught me how to love
How to fight for a compromise
Yet in the sidelines
You showed me what it means to betray

It burns deep like frostbite
The second that i think that it's gone
I find yet another place where you stained my life

I am crying
I am broken
You broke me

What hurts the most is how easy and mindless it was for you
A simple act that rests in your memory
Yet does not touch the root of your being

Here I am in the aftermath
I'm scared to be loved truthfully
I know it's all cliche
But it's the truth

I can't help but back away
And i think that's because of you

I watch as my Father
Makes tea for my Grandfather
(His Father-In-Law)
He removes the lid off the mug,
The hot water, inside it, once sealed,
He dabs the tea bag, it bounces, splashing,
He tears open the two sachets of sugar
Pours and mixes it all in (with no milk)
My Father has stubby, tradie fingers,
Watching them do such delicate work is odd
Then the tea sits in its plastic, blue mug
No one says a word.
Not I; not either of these men;
The tea is cooling, steaming,
We all watch, eyes intent and stern,
For a moment, the tea is sacred, holy,
A communion
Between a middle aged Catholic and an old atheist
Then, finally, this tea, horrid tasting, I imagine,
Is taken by the handle with a trembling hand
And it is sipped by trembling lips

Dad,

Did you really mean the things you said to me? That one night.
Did you really mean to disown me at birth? That one afternoon.
Did you really mean to hurt me and the woman I love? That one day.

Before birth, dad, I learned love through closed fists.
I learned love through the smell of bourbon and the taste of whatever drugs were on your tongue that night.
I learned love through abandonment.

At the age of three months, I was naive.
I thought love was shown in the shapes of bruises.
I thought love was left in the burn marks.
I thought love was embedded into broken ribs.

I thought sleeping pills made you fly.
That’s why I cried for mama to take me with her.

At the age of seven, I was naive.
I believed you loved me.
I believed that I was the subject of every waking ballad you’d sing to me.
I believed that your rough hands rubbing lotion on me was out of love not pure obligation.

At the age of nine, I was naive.
I trusted your words.
I trusted your vows.
I trusted everything you’d say.
Yet, you never showed up.

But even love can’t make room in busy.

At the age of eleven, I was naive.
I waited for you.
I longed for you.
And some nights,
I cried for you.

But distance makes screams seem quieter than they seem.

At the age of thirteen, I was naive.
I needed you.
That year I tried to fly like mama.

No one cried for me.

At the age of sixteen, I was naive.
I was cutting the thought of you out of me.
I was cutting the half of me that belonged to you.
I bled out the portion that reminded me of you.

Dad, I’m scared.
I’m terrified that I forgot a piece of you.
That inside me, somewhere, is a part of you growing.

I don’t want to hurt the ones I love.
I don’t want to ruin everything I love.
I don’t want to make anyone feel the way you made me feel.

I fear that I'll grow up to be you.
Ruthless, mysterious, alone, aggressive,
And a coward.

But
At the age of 18, I wasn’t naive.
I pushed you away.
I cut all ties.
I disowned you this time.

At the age of 18.
You created sons,
You created a family.
The one you always wanted一
You finally found the true meaning of love.

Your youngest daughter,
Marrianna.

Lord, watch over my heart.
Right my mind, if it wonders.

Lord, I pray this man is of You if he is for me.
God, keep my heart pure and righteous as I get to know his heart.
Father, help me be watchful of his actions and fair and just, not letting my heart be swept away by fleeting things.
Lord, I pray this is something true and different and pure and good.
God, I pray you keep us in your hands and keep us safe.
Father, keep us pure and holy, blameless before your eyes.

Lord, I know he loves you.
It's evident in everything he does.
He loves all these kids so well.
He is hard working and always willing to serve.
He is loyal to those he loves.
He trusts in you, Father.
He is bold and confident in you.
He's not afraid to lead and to speak his mind.
He is a thinker, and he carries a deep heart.
But somehow he keeps the room light-hearted, always, with his humor.

God, make it evident to us both if this is a gift from you.
Father, lead us to make good decisions and to be wise.
Lord, keep us safe and pure and honest.
God, we trust in You to lead us in Your marvelous ways.

prostitutes
who walk the streets
for the relief of men
unhappy at home
check out girls
at the till of empty promises
waiting to be discovered
and whisked away
young ones in yoga pants
jogging for a better body
and a better future
counting the steps
to where they could’ve
been today
the ones pushing prams
who are too late to corrupt
but you’d still give it a go
the tempting schoolgirls
in their uniformed uniformity
who’s radiant faces separate them
from their peers
they are all someone’s daughter
somebody’s pride and joy
they are all loved by fathers
who would lay down their lives
for them
who have made sacrifices
for them
and would again
precious
missed
special
remember this
as you glance a lustful eye
in their direction

Oh the day I celebrate your funeral‬
‪Or the day you celebrate mine‬
I’ll be the one who laughs
When others whine
Your words
Weakened me
More than my spine
Oh father, to see you dead
I’ll surely
Shine

Today, I was going to call you
I thought about it all day
I practiced what I would say to you
"hey, hows it going?"
"hi, how are you?"
"you doing okay?"
but none of these questions were about me
I didn't rehearse lines such as
"oh yeah I went to a concert yesterday" or
"been working a lot" or
"I hate you".

Today, I was going to call you
because even though I wouldn't admit it,
I was scared of your anger for not having
jumped as your lap dog after 2 days
1 day
a few hours
I know how you feel about me
I know what you say about me
So today, I was going to call you
but no matter how many times I say
"how high?"
when you ask me to jump
you'll always tell everyone
I'm a terrible kid.

so I'm not ******* calling you today.

Let us not talk
about family

My father
is the word absence

And my mother
is the word fear