To You, O Father of Mine
One day, I hope that you burn
In a house fire. I hope
That it is a jilted lover
Who sets you ablaze.
I hope that it is she,
Who steals from you what you want to keep.
I hope that it is she, who is karma,
Who will make you reap what you have sown.
I hope that you die a painful death,
Though I know what it takes from me,
To wish such a thing.
One day, I hope that you drown.
I hope that you feel the fire
Inside of your lungs, as you beg
For one last breath.
I hope that one day, water will cleanse you and suffocate you,
Because you need to be cleansed,
And I want you to suffocate.
One day, I hope that you feel the pain
Of a withering body.
I hope that time is not just a construct of human thought,
But a fact.
I hope that it takes your sight so that you can't see,
I hope that it takes your legs so that you can no longer walk,
I hope that it steals from you what you want to keep.
One day, I want you to look me in the face and tell me how sorry you are.
I want you to feel how horribly empty those words will be,
I want you to feel how horribly sad that you are.
I want you to tell me that you're sorry,
So that I may rip your skin from your bones,
To show the world, to show myself,
That you are vulnerable,
That you are mortal.
In the face of Death,
I want you to feel the way that I did, as a child,
When you told me that you would find me and burn my house down,
If I ever called you again.
I want you to burn in a house fire,
Thought I know what it takes from me to wish such a thing.