the beekeeper.

paternal dysfunction.

we were such a team.
my friends loved you,
i loved you;
you were the best father anyone could ever ask for.
you were supportive of everything i did.
you praised me;
my art,
my writing,
my personality and my mind.
i was perfect in your eyes.

we were so much alike, too.
mom was a shared discomfort in both of our lives,
so was grandma and my aunts.
our tastes were identical;
our music,
our beliefs,
our views on everything.

and we were all we had.
in a world where everyone rejected us,
we found love and appreciation in each other.
do you know how rare that is?
how special?
i was everything to you.
you had no one.
i was there for you when nobody else was.

why is it that whenever a succubus comes around, you seem to forget that?

your first time abandoning me was with stupid susan.
you violated my trust and broke our code.
more blood was spilt than ever before,
but you didn't care.
you should've felt lucky to have been forgiven.
after everything you did to me,
i should've never trusted you again.
that was my fault.
i'll admit that.

then, it was ashley.
ashely was a good woman.
nothing was ever wrong with us.
ashley put you in check.
she righted your wrongs whenever you yelled at me for no reason.
she looked out for my well being just as much if not more than yours.

but candice...
candice hurts the most.
we were best friends before anything happened between you two,
we were partners.
she was a teacher, a role model.
she told you what was what whenever you tried to say she was just as important as me.
"don't start that bullshit, if it came down to it, you had better save your child over me. if you didn't, i would."
she understood my schizo.
she understood my depression.
she understood my anxiety.
she understood my gender dysphoria.
she understood everything.

but what i can't understand is how things went so wrong...

she hated me, she was out to get me;
paranoia or fact,
i'll never know.
we stopped talking,
you were allowed to scream at me.
you were allowed to call me names and pick at every single thing i did.
you were like a bull set loose in a pen
and i was running,
tripping over my own feet and begging for you to wake up,
but all you did was charge.

i don't know when it turned to shit,
but it did.

i hated her.
she would leave her messes for me to pick up,
and you would expect me to clean every morsel of it.
she would sass me in front of you, behind your back,
either or, you acted like you didn't notice.
things were bad.

but they were never as bad as april 3rd.

for weeks you two were whispering in front of me,
ignoring whenever i'd ask you what you was so secretive.
you wouldn't even try to hide the fact you were talking about houses.
you would parade it in front of me
and then cover it in tarp whenever i'd ask why you were hunting.
i had to ask you three times before you told me you were moving to alabama.

my father,
my hero.

you hid the fact that you were leaving me.
and the sad part was,
you yelled at me when i told you i wasn't moving with you!
you expected me to be happy to uproot my life,
my friends,
my family,
everything i ever knew and loved
and start a whole new life in some god forsaken state that already held a bad taste in my mouth
with a woman i didn't want to be around in the first place.
you expected me to be happy to leave my childhood home
to leave all those memories of when you and i were all we had.