It was never about the scars that I couldn’t seem to count,
Not that you were ever worried about the exact amount.
I mean, do you really not remember me,
Four years old with my back to the door,
Crying, only trying to get you to see,
Everything he was turning out to be.
However, this didn’t seem to cross your mind,
When you spent practically no time,
Packing my bags and sending me to him.
You practically ran away, and now, after all the time it’s been,
How could you have become so blind?
For the love of a daughter,
No, not a daughter, but your daughter,
What would posses you to believe,
That he could do anything other than deceive,
The ones who love him, but are too weak to leave.
I never asked to understand what exactly it is that happened.
All those years have become settled dust from times I have chosen not to mend.
Maybe the past wasn’t written in pen for you like it was me,
But how could you have ever thought that his house would raise me happily?
As someone who battled cancer for seven years I never thought of you to be so weak.
I am not saying this to be cruel, nor do I wish to be too meek.
I am just hoping to find some peace and quiet,
From the shouts that have become riots in my own head,
Due to all the things I never quite said to you.
Cancers a pain and death comes with more,
But as a mother I won’t be too sure,
When my daughter comes to me and asks,
“Mama, why can daddy’s face turn into such an angry mask?”
I don’t lie, and I never tell someone exactly what it is that want to hear,
But my one great fear,
Is that I will wake up and understand why it is you could never be here,
For your daughter, for just little old me.
Gender:
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