Sometimes im afraid i’ll end up like him. Im scared ill become his spitting image. Sometimes when i get upset i get angry and i feel like hurting people. 

I don’t want to hurt anyone, please don’t let me hurt anyone.

When he got angry he didn’t stop until he was done being angry. He was angry most of the time.

I never really tell anyone how scary it was. 

Now, in the future, hes not as mad that often. 

But my foggy young brain can still remember. 

Remember how i hid. 

Hid from a man who loved me. From a man who was angry most of the time. 

He always said sorry, after. 

He always said he loved me with all his heart and that he didn’t mean to be upset, after. 

He didn’t hit me, no i never went to mom with bruises. 

He only shouted louder than ive ever heard.

Ive been told that im very loud.

that i get angry sometimes.

that i look like him.

he used to tell me that our hair texture matched and my skin was thick like his. 

You have to have thick skin around him.

He would boast about how the mosquitoes never bit us and how absolutely articulate i was. He was proud of how i matched him.

I used to boast. I was so happy to be praised as someone who looked like him. 

 

Im so afraid to be angry. 

Afraid ill bite a little too hard, like that one day in the living room. 

I bit him too hard, he got angry. He bites back.

I remember the lady with black hair and a clipboard. My mom clutching me not letting go. Slowly rolling up my sleeve to show purple teeth. 

She asked what could be done. 

I insisted, insisted, insisted, he didn’t mean to.

It was my fault, i bit him too hard. 

He wasn’t allowed to see me for a little while. 

I begged and pleaded to see him to apologize, to say sorry to the man who said i was his spitting image, the one he was proud of. 

The one who he knew would bring merit to his name and honor his legacy.  

When i saw him again he said sorry. He said i love you smart little girl. You make me so proud, it will never happen again.

And it didn’t. 

it didn’t.

But he still shouted, belted at us, for reasons ill never know.

 

Sometimes I get angry and I just don’t know what to do with myself. 

All i can think of in those moments are how I never ever want to end up like my father.

an angry man who said i was just like him.