Refraction.

Until I Come Home

Although born soft,
My father forced
My skin to thicken,
My heart to slow.
Nobody can make me cry now,
Not until I come home.
The scars that
Thickened my skin,
That gave me my armour,
All remember this place.
They know and they grieve
And they rage,
Suddenly they are tender
Once again.
He raises his voice,
The stakes,
And suddenly
I am soft again.
I am a child again,
Crying once more,
Unsure why someone
Who should love me
Would cut me
Just to see me bleed.
I am no stronger
Than the boy I was
When I was branded
Worthless the first time.
Still hopeful, still whole,
Still delicate -
Qualities I wish I could reclaim
Anywhere outside of this place.
In here, I crumble:
I feel the size I was
When I was told
I was a burden
For the first time.
Finally crying again,
I look at my father and wish
It was safe to be loved
By him.
I wish I was different,
Although I know
The issue truly lies with him.
Every critique
Rings in my ears -
I am too little, too much,
Ugly, never quite clever enough.
I ought to be slimmer, do more
Than could ever be done.
I am too sensitive, too kind, so easy
To take advantage of.
He says I don't deserve what I have
Even though he was the one
Who gave it to me;
What I am is something worse
Than what it would be
To be nothing at all,
And I loathe that his words
Can still cut me down.
I loathe that I still long to be loved
By someone who destroyed me,
But I
Am a child again.
I am that boy
From so many years ago, but
Now I have grown,
I want nothing more than to hold him
And wipe his eyes.
I know how he believed
What his father said;
That one should be able to trust
What one's father says,
But I would take his hand
And together we'd find the courage
To break away,
If not physically, at least emotionally -
I want him to know
That nothing is his fault;
He will be the one to break the cycle,
Sometimes even able
To forget the trauma
For a little while, at least
Until he comes home.