Can your sins be forgiven if you have forgotten?
Should I not hate you if you don’t remember the pain you’ve caused,
Or is that all the more reason to?
Why did you forget anyway?
Is your seniority to blame,
Or did you just not register your blights as bad or significant?
Regardless, you are now, as you have always been, Comfortably in the delusion
That you were and are a good father,
That you have followed the “Christian way” you always spew on about.
And I, too, play along with this delusion, pretending
That I don’t dream about the day I never have to see you again,
That every time I say “I love you, too” isn’t a complete lie.
But it is. It all is. The truth is
That you are a monster that has scarred my brother and I beyond comprehension,
That we’ve been forced to swallow it all and pretend we’re ok
Because you don’t remember any of it. So,
When I fear from the bottom of my heart the mere possibility of you being angry,
When my bother rages in easily provoked anger scarily like your own,
You have no idea why. And we become the problem. I
Need to stop being so sensitive, he
Needs to stop being so angry.
But why don’t we remind you of all the horrible things you’ve done to us?
Is it an act of mercy,
Or an act of hopelessness?
Both are true, but there’s more. We
Still need you to support us financially, and we
Still have to sit at the dinner table with you every night.
I don’t think you could handle either knowing
That your daughter is driven insane just by being near you,
That your son tried to kill himself once, and you several times.
remain silent, and you
As we wait for the day
When we can change our names and numbers and disappear,
When we can abandon out pasts and begin rebuilding ourselves for promising new lives.
When that day comes, we
Will, tell our kids we had no parents, and you
Will be none the wiser.
Your daughter, in name only, for now