My true self is unknown to my peers,
For all that they see is my exterior and its traits.
Yes, I have orange hair and pale skin,
And yes, I have freckles upon my face.
My use of crude humor and insults is just a diversion,
And that is all that people see.
But does that really define who I am?
Do these characteristics tell people my story?
Does it tell people that I have an alcoholic father,
Or that my entire life involved me having to deal with it?
Does it tell people that I grew up in bars meeting complete strangers?
If so, then people should understand my attitude.
Yes, I can sometimes be a complete jerk to people,
And many people think it’s just provoked by the ginger remarks.
I only wish that this was the only reason.
My life of being emotionally abused by an angry father
And always told that the divorce was all my mother’s fault,
And trying to make my father proud through bowling,
A sport that few people find interesting,
Have led to my attitude towards reality.
I gained social problems as I started to grow up.
I hate meeting new people after my childhood in bars,
And I haven’t told anyone about these problems.
Not even my best friend.
But after repressing these feelings for so long,
I have had more and more urges to let them out.
This is an attempt to get over my past experiences,
So that people can finally see who I really am.
It’s been so long since my “true” self has been revealed,
That I don’t even remember much of who I truly am.
It’s like I’m in a hockey shootout.
The puck is my true self,
The drunken side of my father is the goalie.
Scoring is letting my true feelings out,
Both towards him, and to my friends.
But I can never get by my father.
I don’t want my only memories of him to involve alcohol.
That’s not what I want his legacy to be.
This is but a desperation move to finally get past him,
And score.