deepundergroundpoetry.com
note to my father
I wonder now how many animals
eat their offspring
crunching through chiton coating
Sucking out their insides
I remember holding the door shut
years ago
not knowing if you
pried it open
what you'd do
while you screamed "whore" at me
and I was too young
to even know what "fuck" was
just old enough to understand terror
to understand my father's hands
didn't caress me
they hit me
when I remember these times
I remember mom leaving the room
she couldn't bear to watch
couldn't bear to sacrifice herself
to save her older daughter
from fists that rained down
like hammer hail on my back and legs
because hitting me in the face was "abuse"
sometimes there would be
weeks
where every night was like this
then suddenly it would end
like it never started
and you'd be 'dad'
I'd be 'kid'
and even though I burned in hate for you
I just wanted to be accepted
loved
and that made me hate myself even more
now I face you as an adult
with the little girl who just wasn't good enough
right beneath the surface
and she wonders why, even after all that,
you just couldn't love her
but in this life I've learned
control
and much like you,
I smack the whiny brat in line
resume our weekly dose of interaction
smile weakly as I leave
still feeling the impression
of your teeth on my insides
eat their offspring
crunching through chiton coating
Sucking out their insides
I remember holding the door shut
years ago
not knowing if you
pried it open
what you'd do
while you screamed "whore" at me
and I was too young
to even know what "fuck" was
just old enough to understand terror
to understand my father's hands
didn't caress me
they hit me
when I remember these times
I remember mom leaving the room
she couldn't bear to watch
couldn't bear to sacrifice herself
to save her older daughter
from fists that rained down
like hammer hail on my back and legs
because hitting me in the face was "abuse"
sometimes there would be
weeks
where every night was like this
then suddenly it would end
like it never started
and you'd be 'dad'
I'd be 'kid'
and even though I burned in hate for you
I just wanted to be accepted
loved
and that made me hate myself even more
now I face you as an adult
with the little girl who just wasn't good enough
right beneath the surface
and she wonders why, even after all that,
you just couldn't love her
but in this life I've learned
control
and much like you,
I smack the whiny brat in line
resume our weekly dose of interaction
smile weakly as I leave
still feeling the impression
of your teeth on my insides
Published 28th Aug 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 6
reading list entries 2
comments 8
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The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
28th Aug 2011 6:13am
[from fists that rained down
like hammer hail on my back and legs
because hitting me in the face was "abuse" ] This was my mother. All of it, really, but she would tell me as she hit me it wasn't abuse because the bruises weren't on my face. And it was usually an object - a heavy hair brush, thick wooden spoon, metal spatula, belt, etc. She threw me through the center of the dining room table once.
[with the little girl who just wasn't good enough
right beneath the surface] I visit very seldom - sometimes not for years.
[smile weakly as I leave
still feeling the impression
of your teeth on my insides] Yes - this is truth. Whether you wrote this as a purgative, or merely as social commentary, it is effective and brutally honest.
like hammer hail on my back and legs
because hitting me in the face was "abuse" ] This was my mother. All of it, really, but she would tell me as she hit me it wasn't abuse because the bruises weren't on my face. And it was usually an object - a heavy hair brush, thick wooden spoon, metal spatula, belt, etc. She threw me through the center of the dining room table once.
[with the little girl who just wasn't good enough
right beneath the surface] I visit very seldom - sometimes not for years.
[smile weakly as I leave
still feeling the impression
of your teeth on my insides] Yes - this is truth. Whether you wrote this as a purgative, or merely as social commentary, it is effective and brutally honest.
28th Aug 2011 2:16pm
With him it was always an object too-- belt was his favorite, but branch, stick, board-- anything handy. Then the only time he would show affection was afterwards when he spouted some bullshit about how it hurt him worse than it hurt me. Because of it, I still have issues with affection. I wrote this to deal with those issues.
Of course, I was the only one he hit, well, me and my mother. I had the unfortunate genetics to look like her.
Anyway, thank you. I'm cleaning out closets trying to make room for some kind of happily ever after.
Of course, I was the only one he hit, well, me and my mother. I had the unfortunate genetics to look like her.
Anyway, thank you. I'm cleaning out closets trying to make room for some kind of happily ever after.
28th Aug 2011 6:53pm
You're an effective writer. It saddens me that such a heartrending piece was based off painful personal experiences.
28th Aug 2011 7:52pm
Thank you-- I think most of us, at least what I've learned from conversations, started in similar circumstances.
3rd Sep 2011 11:57pm
To read this is devistating, I can't even imagine living it. I often tell my friends when I hear of such things that people like him don't deserve to breathe my air and I want to make it so they can't. And that's being nice about it. No matter how much anger I feel, it can never be the anger you feel. I wish I could hug your soul.
Thank you for that. It leaves scars that last a lifetime-- I still have issues from it. I won't go into it in public forum, but no one deals with abuse as a child and just outgrows it.
4th Sep 2011 8:27am
4th Sep 2011 10:11pm
