I don't know anymore...

Dad.

You wrapped your fingers around my neck.

And you killed me.

You killed my dreams.

My hopes.

My sanity.

You killed my joy.

My love.

My security.

You squeezed it out of me like I was a stuffed animal.

And you just a terrified child.

But you seemed to forget that I was.

I was that terrified child.

All those years we spent together.

Mommy at work.

You taking care of me.

You squeezed those memories out.

But you didn't squeeze everything out.

You just replaced it.

I'm miserable, Dad.

I'm sad.

I'm lonely.

I often get depressed.

I'm afraid of the world.

And myself.

And the people around me.

I'm afraid of it all.

I cry myself to sleep some nights, Dad.

I cry myself to sleep because I know that no one will ever stick around for me.

I cry myself to sleep because I know that no one is truly there for me.

Why, Dad?

Why the fuck did you think that wrapping your 44 year old hands around my 10 year old neck was smart?

I get that I woke up late, Dad.

I get that made you mad.

But you should've just yelled at me.

You could've just yelled at me.

I don't know what punishment is anymore.

I do something wrong and you know what happens?

I'll get yelled at.

Or sent to my room.

But it doesn't feel like punishment at all.

Because somehow you've managed to get into my head that the only real punishment is abuse.

You know what happens when I get yelled at?

I'll bang my head into the walls.

You know what happens when I'm sent to my room?

I'll find something to hit myself with.

Because I'm punishing myself.

The way I should be punished.

The way you taught me to.

Right, Dad?

Because guess what, Dad?

When you wrapped your fingers around my neck.

And squeezed everything out of me.

Somehow.

You killed me.

A/N: I dedicate this poem to my father, because he fucked me over enough to give me the inspiration to write this.