cycles of pain.
when the ground beneath me
cries in the terror of ones
hungered severed torn
how could I have known
the grace of a smile
was made into being
experiencing
cycles of pain before I was born
a letter to my father.
I thought I’d be writing this to you on a different day I had visualised for years. the day I’d be free. the day you wouldn’t be here anymore and I’d have the valiance to finally scream out all my unkempt anger. this day has come sooner than I’d expected, and in different circumstances. much better than I’d hoped them to be. and I have some things I want to say. I want to tell you that you’ll always be the greatest source of hurt and pain. I hadn’t seen anyone who had hurt me and who would ever hurt me more than you. it is diabolical to how much lengths you’ve crossed just to inflict me, my mother and my sister — and my whole family — with pain that we need so much time and effort to heal. it’s unreasonable how you never listened to me despite telling you countless times that I did not feel well. it’s terrible that you’d blocked all of my attempts to talk to you honestly. I want to tell you that you did not give me a choice but to lie to you. anytime I’d say or you’d discover the trut
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