Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cynthia Medeiros Apr 2017
I have some good memories of you
From when I was younger.

I remember the times
You'd bring me fishing,
You taught me how to cast.
I'd always hoped to catch
A fish as big as a shark.


I remember how you'd
Always make me laugh.
Especially when you'd start
Laughing really hard because
Your laugh is contagious.

I remember being called
"Daddy's little girl" because
I'd always wanna be with you.

And I remember wanting to go to
The bar with you when you went.

The bar,
Where you'd go to drink
And occasionally smoke cigarettes with friends.


I didn't understand it back then.


But now,
I have new memories of you.


I remember the times where
I was terrified to die
While you were behind the wheel.
When you accelerated faster on the highway,
I'd laugh in fear as I held in the tears
And prayed to God to get home safe.
Then you'd swerve.
Sometimes purposely for fun,
Sometimes just because you're drunk.


I remember the time
You fell backwards onto the floor
Because you were so drunk
That you couldn't even keep your balance.
You could've fallen down the stairs
Which was just in the other direction.
I could've lost you that day.


I remember the time you
Smoked **** inside a friends car outside the bar
During my confirmation party last year.


I remember those two Christmases
And those two birthdays that
You ruined for me two years in a row.


I remember the time when
You blurted out to my godfather that
I had cut and starved myself as if it were a news story.
Did you ever stop and think that
Maybe you're part of the reason why I did it?


I remember the time
You grabbed a trash bag and
Started to put all your clothes in it
While threatening to leave.
But It's like you're never there anyways
So what's the difference?


Then last night you said something to me
That tore my heart into pieces as if it were paper.
You were mad at Mom for something
That was most likely your fault.
You said,
“I'm gonna save up all my money
And to hell with her!”


Then I did the same thing as always.
Go into my room.
Close the door and lock it.
Turn up the music.
And cry.


Sometimes I’d wish I was a child again
Just so I wouldn't be able to understand,
So it wouldn't hurt as bad.


You know,
You said you'd die at 40 but look, you're 41.
So maybe that's God giving you a chance to change.
But God has given you too many chances,
I have given you too many chances,
We have all given you way too many chances.


A part of me wants you to know that I wrote this
So you could maybe realise how much it hurts.
But the other part of me knows that
You'll just look away and laugh
Like it doesn't mean anything.


Just like you always do.


-Cynthia Medeiros

— The End —