My father not

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Our house carried

The sheer force of jumping frogs

It was beautiful once; my father had come home

The conniving wolf went back

afraid of the gun in my father's hand


He chased it down with roar and tears

Tore it apart in front of my bleeding scars

That day I had not a father since

The flesh he tore with a gun back then

 Had a hand, a mouth and talked like me, maybe more


Our house carried

The sheer force of jumping frogs

It was beautiful once; my father had come home

And then he left, he left with a bloodied scar

Afraid of the gun in my tremblin' hands

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 18 ⏰

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