stranger with my face,
where have you been?
i realize in therapy today
that i do not know my father
can’t remember the color of his eyes
or his address,
but i still know what he used to drink
when i was a small boy,
and surely that counts for something
old crow grog,
bottle pushed far back enough
on top of the fridge that i
couldn’t reach
and i guess i should thank
him for that,
shouldn’t i?
but if that’s all i have to thank
my father for
whose dna i share half of,
then what’s the fucking point?
tell me how i find the poetry
in a father that abused me
and then abandoned me
this man that didn’t want me
when i still thought i was his daughter,
and really didn’t want me for a son
what do i do with that?
how do i make it stop hurting?
how much gauze must i pack into
this gaping and gangrenous wound that
my childhood left
before it stops bleeding for good?
i was a kid,
i was just a kid
that needed his father,
but that’s never been something
i was willing to beg for,
nor should i have to
-
Author:
Boaz Priestly (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 4th, 2021 02:07
- Category: Letter
- Views: 47
- Users favorite of this poem: James Michael
Offline)
Comments3
Angry and powerful piece.
Please try to get it out of your system and move on.
Was this piece part of that journey?
Very much so! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything about my father, let alone something so angry and hurting. Weird kind of cathartic, for sure.
Very disturbing personal revelations from you today.
My words are to accept your past and write it off. You is what you is - and nobody ios going to make you anything else. But fekkit man just be proud to be who you are. At the very least you are a survivor. Be proud to have come through the crap that life handed you, hold that head up and look the world in the eye. And keep writing good poetry cos it does you the power of good getting it off yer chest.
Thank you so much for your kind words, and reading my work. This piece especially. I haven’t written something like this in a while, and it feel lighter for having done so.
Straight from your heart and soul as always. You’re the only reason I have come back here. The anguish you have put into this one is so real.
Be well my dearest of poets.
My old friend! So good to hear from you again! You be well, too
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