Blessed am I to have a father
One that shall not let me falter
How fortunate am I he doesn’t know
Where I hide, where I cry
Because when I try
To declare my mind
He gazes at me
With his queasy glare
And engulfs me in
Illusory guilt
But feels too true
To know any better

Society says I am indebted to his savvy
So I bow
But ignorance blinds him
To the dread I house
When characters insist
I must devote to him blind
Confusion seizes my mind like nails to a magnet

I don't recall what it was like
To love him so
When I was a child
Who saw deceiving veracity
Inside conspicuous deceit

The only thing I've preserved
From yesteryears
Are the tears
That incinerate my throat
Shriveled stinging shame
For something I didn’t do
Feathers are plucked
From wingless birds
And I am skinned alive
By spiteful words

His lies spill on the floor
And I slip
Because falling
Is innocuous
Compared to his
Heinous
Serpentine
Vindictive
Eyes

Ascending steps up creaking stairs
Cascades despair as I escape
His counterfeit love
He sinfully believes
Is just as genuine
As the succoring coos
Of the comrades
Who held my hand
Under starry skies
Next to fragile fires
And let me cry myself to death
On their wary shoulders
Who understood
The horrors
Of home

Every story of a doting father
Is a knife piercing me
By the hands of others
That snicker
When I whisper
That the most detestable person
I've ever known
Is the man
Who bore me

And I hate how
I'm too terrified to admit
That in the midst
Of their lasting laughter
My words
Were never more serious
Than they were
At that moment

Fictitious photos
Burn in my hands
Tears decorate my nose
Unknowing smiles
Now too crooked
To be what it once was
Holding hands
With the family I chose
Looking forward to the day
I finally learn
Not to speak
But
To roar