The aftermath

November 2, 2011
By , silver spring, MD
Heavily medicated

Delicately elevated

Clean white walls, the smell of Clorox

“Daddy, why are they sticking tubes in you?”

Why are you here and not home with me?

Naturally that’s where you’re supposed to be

But you made your self sick drinking that poison

That is causing your liver erosion

Your disease consumes us two little kids and our mommy

I knew the sound of an ambulance so well it haunted my lullabies

“Baby, don’t cry he’s going to be fine” they would say.

Daddy, you’re gray and kind of scary, I’m afraid, what’s going on?

This isn’t what a father is supposed to be!

You’re dying in front of us

It’s all so abstract to me

I’m too little to absorb what’s going on.

I have no power

This fight i cannot win

As I grew into adolescence, it struck me

I now possess the ability to see just what everyone was hiding from me

It’s been fourteen years and I’ve thought so hard and cried so many nights

I’ve laughed, I’ve loved and I’m growing up.

I’m graduating this year, I wish you were here to see

But in some sense I believe you’re looking down on me, lovingly

So thank you for being the father you could be

Our lives are the aftermath of alcoholism

But we will keep moving on

I will never forgive you.

But I will always miss you.

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