Topic: Happy Father's Day | |
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this is more than a scathing plea
than a message so i showed her all the things i can cook because you taught me to read and drink and die and, you know, cook despite what they say about you it's fine i don't believe in heaven but today is an arbitrary attribution upon our boring past you told me to follow what i cared about so i found a girl and we fell in love and you met her... while i stood in that goddamn hospital line that night and i tried not to weep yes, i was so cold she kept me warm you didn't know her much she let me be afraid that's what i needed so as days passed by and days passed you by and i moved in to a nice apartment (across the street) that i couldn't afford and tried to reconcile my poor spirit and empty pockets with her tortured bank account i kneel on the snow outside your third story apartment and get drunk because this is where my father died i haven't written one damn thing worth a letter of denial but they say they like my work keep working, they say i never loved you for your wallet and i stole that wallet once and i did a bunch of acid and tried to die i don't know i returned the money i had when the pills didn't kill me but you didn't care it was fine i was alive in our house, our tiny little apartment where the walls dragged in so hideously that it felt like some desperate dream and it's too late now and nothing that i write comes out right they don't know the months of motels or the crack or the sad, irish boy sitting in the back of the car working at the homeless shelter as a child because what happened to you would never happen to anybody else, right? Right? I never went back there after you died. And though I know it's going to hell, I also found your letters. I don't care. So it's an arbitrary holiday sprinkled with loss for me and I revel in it, and my pointless poetry that can never bring you back. But you listened to it, in some drunken stupor, as I cleaned blood off the floor and prayed it wouldn't be one more night in the hospital waiting room, or patrolling the exterior, hoping, dying for some girl to save me. Happy fathers' day. I love you and I don't hate you. I smile at the fact we will never, ever talk again, my eldest of friends. |
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..loved..
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