Mostly my rambling on my horrible love life

yah okay.

This is a poem thing- not really sure what to call it.  A rant- I guess. Called To My Father. Thanks for reading.

To My Father

So. I'm back. Back at your house. In a room. With you alone. You asked my how I'm doing and I said I do not know. My day was pretty good-bearable at least. And when I got home I saw your smiling face, a tasteless taste.

I should feel comfy here, I shouldn't hate the walls. After all I used to live here- this is where I'd bawl. Where you used to tuck me warm in bed, and I'd fly off to dreamland. Wow how things have changed.

When did it start? Maybe the day
You took my mother's laugh away. When you pushed her back into the wall and screamed at her- yelled at her! About it all.

Now I could scream and yell at you
As you once had to her.
But I'm constantly reminded that her pain is hers. You never yelled at me. You never touched me.

Right?

To hell with it all! No one would listen- if I told them of the days where I'd sit with glistening tears down my face, because I didn't get the work they put us to at school. You'd yell at me screaming how it was easy for you and how I should get it too. Or those times when I walked into the room when you and mom were having an argue- and I'd beg you both to stop. You'd point and yell at me to go and my shaking legs would run away. You hit my courage and pride...

I don't mean to be a cliche, but my self love took a hit that day. When you were tearing down my mother's bedroom door but ALL IN THE "NAME OF LOVE"! Because she wouldn't kiss you goodbye for work that day. Speaking of work you didn't let her have one. You had her stay home and take care of us kids, and she told us stories about how you were in the good old days.

You made her unable to fend for herself, and us unable to hate you. But still you went around laughing about a broken arm the day you punched the door. Tell me- "daddy" why did you hate that door? Because your wife was trying to hide, "daddy" my mother was trying to HIDE from YOU! And "Daddy" I was too!

I shouldn't be talking about the past though. It's the present. A gift from God, the holy man from the beginning, whispering in my ears to stay strong. When my mother was crying in her bathroom floor, praying to anyone to help her not feel torn. I found out HE. Was my father. The man I stand before today with my same blood and last name, the man I stand before now... he isn't my father. He is the shell of a man I once used to call "Daddy".

I'd love to say I hate you but as I said before, my mother filled my head with memories that weren't my own, and they cleansed my heart from hating you... forever. So when I say these things, don't get confused, because I can never say those three words because I will always have a painting of you. You- with large round glasses, and a poky stub stash. You- who would laugh with us and have a ball, any season, any at all. You'd fuel my reasons why- reasons why I loved you. Reasons why being here was right for me.

Now those reasons have changed.
I stand here telling you the words that you'll never, ever, hear- but I'll always- always believe.
I live here so that I can keep my mother away from people like you.
I live here so that she has something or someone to fight for, because this life's a battlefield.
I live here so that I can prove to the world and myself that just because I have your blood- I do not have your life. I am not you.
I will never be like you.

Tell me, "daddy" do you know why I'm upset?
It's not because I'm bleeding,no, or having loss of sleep, "daddy" can you see? The picture I'm trying to paint, the voice that you've been trying to take-! "Daddy"- can you see? Can you see what you've done to me? To me or my whole family? "Daddy"...

You are not my "Daddy". You and I, share the same blood, you gave me chromosomes when I was nothing but a seed, but, no, No! You won't see me bleed, you won't hear my quiet, whispers or my pleads, I won't! Ask! I'm not asking now! I don't want your answers, and I don't want your mouth! Keep, your words! From ever coming out! I'm staying here to fight, before war breaks out! "Daddy". . .

There are times I stay awake at night, starring at my ceiling, counting the reasons I should hate you. I want to hate you. You ruined my life, you tortured my mind, you poisoned the only family you left me with- my mother! Your words were the blades she cut through her skin, the memories that made her feel unlovable, and the number 1 reason why she feels she failed as a parent.
Because you
Drank.
Because you
Yelled.
Because you
Lied.
Because of you
I grew up alone.
Alone, feeling like I couldn't do anything.
Alone, like I'm in the wrong for feeling emotions.
Because you did what you did I will never be able to look back at any childhood that wasn't filled with pain, and sorrow, and lies.

I don't hate you.
Maybe it's because of the stories my mother taught me
Maybe it's because I know I'm a child of God
Maybe it's because I don't want you to be the bad guy
But a good guy doesn't do what you did.
A good guy doesn't do that.

All I know is that there is a reason I'm still here. It might not be to love you. It might not be to be your daughter. And I might not know what it is until my time's over, but I'm holding onto the fact that I am.

And while I am, I'm going to live, not in fear of you, not in hatred of you, and not in spite of you.
Instead, I'm going to live, loving my real father. The one that whispered to me words of peace and wisdom in my ears at age of six when I needed them most. The one that was there when I felt my most alone. The one who didn't leave me for beer, and smokes. I will love the father who gave me more reasons to love him then hate him, because he's real. And you're not to me.

Sincerely His,
         Your "daughter"