Supposal Father

I want to hurt something, but why be like you.
Your insults and bipolar rage burning and cutting into me.
I find you maddening and saddening.
Infuriated by my own sadness I stomp away.
The last word is always your most treasured weapon; noone else may have it.
You save till the last the harshest words.
Why should a child have to hear this from her father.
Nights desperately wishing he wasn't mine that somehow there had been a mistake.
But after looking at my brothers face mirroring my own in it's features.
It is not true.
I am alone in my family.