I Wish: A Poem to my Father

I Wish

I wish I could see you as an ally

instead of a threat.

I wish I could take your words to heart

instead of feeling them stab into me like knives.

I wish you'd listen to yourself when you speak,

because that's where your ignorance lies.

I wish you would tell me you're proud of me,

how I'm spitting these words today.

I wish you could see me

as I see myself.

I wish you would hug me and tell me, "yeah, baby girl, life's hard, but you can do it," instead of "gods punishing you with your disability because of something you did in a past life."

I wish you'd stop telling everyone

in town my fuckin' business, because that's none of their fuckin' business.

I wish your hands were gentle,

but instead, I remember the sting they left on my face.

I wish you could understand what

it's like to live your life as though you're hated,

to feel like you're sleeping under a bridge instead of your own home.

I wish you'd take a minute,

reflect on what you're saying to

the girl who "fucks everything up," and who "won't survive on her own".

I wish you'd let me live my own life,

love who i want,

smoke what I want.

I don't want to follow in your footsteps to

be a crook, a manipulation machine, a liar.

Fuck what you want.

God gave me air in my lungs and a dream in my heart,

not because he wanted me to follow you,

but because he wanted me to follow me.

But look at me now,

Dad, father, weapon.

As I'm saying these words to you,

i hope you remember each and every bruise, each and every tear.

each and every "I hate you."

look at me.

I'm making it, aren't I?

I gotta whole room of people, who,

unlike you, actually give a shit.

people who want to hear me tell

the story of the night

I was cold and lonely,

crying outside of a house

I used to accept as my own.

As blood raced down my arm for the

first time, no, I did not feel guilty.

I felt alive.

I felt as if I owned you, owned your

lies, your false promises.

I owned your I'm not sorry's and

your You're stupid's.

I'm standing in front of you today to

tell you

you were never a father, you were a sperm donor.

you were the final blow that shook the ferguson missouri of my mind

you made me crazy,

you made me psychotic.

but guess what /dad/,

what's funny is,

i never really bought it.