3 years old and father is ill. Ill.

I'll see him quench his obsessions, filling his demons with the drink of death.

They burn his insides, destroying our home,

while he sits calmly releasing his bitter smoke.

This old lion is past his years and is inflicting his past into my life.

Inflicting wounds on my own skin to mirror his own while our

Tiles are now buried by his black tar and my shriveled lungs.

I'm lying in his destruction, awaiting for the next attack.

Five years old and I am afraid.

Like the child with no structure, no mother, no protection,

I AM AFRAID.

When are you coming back?

He holds me hostage in this closet,

where my demons crawl all over my bare skin.

His voice roars in my ears like static, yellow rings

of exhaustion still drag his eyes and sink into his wrinkles.

Lips crack out "GET BACK INSIDE!"

Is he gone?

Because I'm still lying in his destruction, while the black consumes me.

Seven years old and she tells me

"Oh, I'm here to stay!"

Painted herself with red lips and bouncy curls,

but who is she? Definitely not someone who can protect me

because that would be a guardian.

She lies next to that lion and preps for the attack,

but who is she to me? Why, she's disbelief.

I'm still lying in his destruction and she still doesn't believe me even after he's gone.

Fourteen years old, dad & you still linger...

except now I'm diagnosed with your typical anxiety and depression.

At least, that's all who I can depend upon nowadays.

They always come to me around the same time at nights and make me cry,

cry because you are not here and I still have to sleep with the night.

Shouldn't I tell them your real name is Juan and not Dad?

Shouldn't I have erupted in the anger you've implemented into my weary soul?

SHOULDN'T I BE JUST LIKE YOU?

 

Hi, Juan. It's me. I'm not your daughter, dad. I am actually a seventeen year old dandelion, used for your own retribution & I've never said a word until now. I hope you're doing better than me. I'm still being used by my only friends & suffocated by this perfect plushie who thinks herself my mother lion. However, I guess you can say I still took after you; I've made my own path of disconnections and retribution in the hopes of bitterly continuing the result of your catalyst.