You see my dad had a temper and when he was done being mad,

I was pretty much all that he had

in that moment.

Crawl out from under the bed and check on him.

I would go sit on his lap and give him a hug.

Trying to comfort him from the pain he had for what he had done.

He didn’t mean it, he never did.

But I was just a kid.

He was sorry I could tell.

And I just wanted to help.

Taking on everyone else’s weight.

Pushing my feelings down but piling up my plate

With others emotions.

I didn’t know it.

I grew up feeling a pain,

I never could explain.

A feeling inside,

That parts of me died.

And I kept it a secret for most of my life.

Now I’m older and I see,

My dad was a lot like me.

He had a lot of struggles but whether or not he loved us,

never came to mind.

At only 5 years old I could see the pain in his eyes.

Had he lived long enough I could’ve figured it out.

And I wouldn’t be sitting here regretting it now.

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