I’m seventeen now.
It’s been six years
since the last time I heard
my father’s voice in the house.
He didn’t die because of the pills.
Or the alcohol.
Or the nights
when he seemed to destroy himself.
He died while working.
The sea took him away
while he was trying to make a living,
and ever since then,
I hate the sound of water.
Sometimes I try to remember
what he was like before all of it.
Before the yelling.
Before the broken doors.
Before the man who taught me how to ride a bike
stopped feeling like my father.
And it hurts to admit
that I miss him.
Because even though he made me cry
more times than I could count,
he was also the one who tucked me in during nightmares
and called me “little one”
like the world could never break me.
I was eleven
when I saw his coffin.
And I remember thinking something horrible:
“Now he can never yell at me again.”
After that,
I felt guilty for years.
I guess that’s how grief works.
It makes you miss even the person
who broke your heart first.
-
Author:
lorena1 (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2026 10:29
- Comment from author about the poem: I think some things never stop hurting. And I guess I'll have to live with it forever: with the fear, the guilt, and the memory of someone I loved, even when they hurt me the most.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Tristan Robert Lange, nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)
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Comments6
I think when you're the provider there's a lot of stress on your shoulders.
Not sure if your dad was a fisherman, which is really hard.
I suppose you must take the good bits out of your fathers life and put the bad bits down to life.
There's no great answers in growing up, as every generation will tell you.
Hopefully your life takes you down a different path.
Thank you so much for your kind words. My father was a gardener, although I don't really know how it all happened. The truth is, I also hope life takes me down a different path. And again, thank you for your kind words.
This is a very emotional poem of pain and loss and the hurt that accompanies it. Well written
Thanks you
You are most welcome Lore
as someone also grieving a father, thank you for sharing. very comforting to know there are others too
I am so sorry for your loss and I'm glad the poem helped you.
Lore, this is heartbreaking because it refuses to simplify grief. The speaker remembers the harm, the fear, the relief, the love…all at the same time. “It hurts to admit / that I miss him” landed especially hard. Beautiful and deeply honest work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks you
beautiful write, I am sure your father would want you to remember only the good times
Thank you very much, I'm looking forward to it too.
most welcome
a very touching poem - showing raw emotions - the stress , the grief for a person who was cruel and tender by turns..forgive him for his roughness, and try to concentrate on the good days - it will help...
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