This is a poem I wrote in honor of my past. It is based of facts of my life and what I feel.
She walks hand in hand down the side walk smiling happily with her daddy. She can’t help but love him so much. Though he struck her for being bad the other night she still loves him. Five years old to the world and she feel like the rest of the world is gone when daddy is happy. When daddy is angry she wants to run and hide from him, afraid she was bad again. The family portrait has all smiles, but she knows the truth behind all their faces, the black, blue, and red painted on their skin as a cruel sentiment to his rages. She lays down and cries herself to sleep tonight, nineteen years later. As she sleeps she imagines her daddy is happy. She is five again and daddy loves them so much and never is angry. The bills are fine and so is everything, life is paradise just for her and her daddy and the family. In her dreams he is happy. When she wakes, she cries because she knows the truth to what she has been through.
Her violent temper a streak of his own in her and she wants to break the mirror before her because she ses him. Her boyfriend hears the glass shatter and comes to comfort her. She is so angry with life that she pushes him away with cruel words. Words she heard her whole life from many people. As she apologises she hates herself more for what she has done. She has lost many friends to her hot headed temper. She tries so hard to be loved and liked by people. She hopes that in their lvoe she can learn to love herself. To fill the void in her heart where a lot of love was missing. Lvoe for herself because the world’s cruel terechery. Kids beating on her with words, mind games, and phsycial thrashings. Watchignt he violence enroll at home.
She loves her daddy. She wanted to make him ahppy mroe than anything then and even more so now. She resents never knowing him much since he was over the road and working to provide best he could. She wants to know him, bond with him like she can in her dreams. But daddy is not the lovey dovey type and she knows this. She wants his love, approval, and pride in her more than anything. She can’t feel like she has ever done enough for him. She feels like what happened in the past was her fault. If it wasn’t her fault, why did daddy swing so much?
She lays down again, she drifts to sleep. Daddy is happy again in her dreams and holds her hand. They are a family. It is not a splintered love that binds their family anymore. As she drifts to sleep she mutters, “i love you still daddy. No matter what daddy, I still love you.”
2012 unpublished work. © by Rebbecca Abernathy
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