To Fathers of Disillusioned Girls,

your breath is mustard gas

and the spit that spews from your mouth melts her skin like napalm fire

the vein in your neck that bulges as you quietly drip poison into her veins

looks like a venomous snake crawling beneath your razor-burned skin.



your words dance across her wrists

she takes a daily dose with her prescription meds

and drinks them with her booze

each trip she takes is a failed attempt to get away from you.


your fists brand her face like a horse’s ass

that dent in the wall is from when her head struck it

as you shoved her and threw her and promised you’d make her regret her trashy mouth

she hides your kicks beneath baggy t-shirts, as she winces from her bruises in gym class


you turned her bedroom into a concentration camp

her closet into a prison cell

you turned her clothes into her calling card

you turned her dimples into damnation


at night, when she’s all alone, when all her friends are asleep

when her thoughts circle around her like vultures

she winds herself tight within her bedsheets

wondering what she did to lose you


don’t you fucking tell her that she is worthless

don’t you fucking tell her that it is all her fault

don’t you fucking tell her that she deserves unhappiness

don’t you fucking call yourself her father



you’re just the man who knocked up her mother.