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.