itโs easier to say
that youโre dead,
instead of just,
you left
and never looked back.
how ironic that
the prospect of your death
would be easier to handle
than watching you walk away so casually,
(a voluntary abandonment).
it’s easier to say that you’re dead
rather than remember
how my mother’s tears
created permanent indentations in
her skin. a permanent shroud of misery,
with skin turning to dust and
eyes clouded
blank.
i say you’re dead
because the knowledge that you live
and ignore the children you
created,
once loved and cherished,
tattooedย permanentlyย over your heart,
is the reason why my words come
from a place of pain
confusion
and betrayal.
a permanentย scar on my heart.
–ย i still don’t understand. i don’t think i can ever forgive you, father.
โจ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ ๐ต๐ฒ๐ซ๐ป๐ช๐ป๐ ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐ช๐ต๐ฎ๐๐ช๐ท๐ญ๐ป๐ช โจ 
So sad to read. youโve obviously been brain washed or not wanting to know the truth. I know your father and this simply isnโt the case..some mothers can be venomous and poisonous and sadly the hatred and venom you write with ; is quite sad… I think you owe your father the time to โHEAR THE TRUTHโ. If you want to talk to me.. happy to chat. But sad reading the hatred when youโre father didnโt abandon you you… EVER.. your mother is not truthful.. or youโre too naive to SEE THE TRUTH. And youโre brother…. sad… heโs a good man
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I wrote this in 2014 and published it this year. This was how I felt. Do not ever tell me that my feelings are invalid. Separation is hard for any child/adult to go through – and what is your obsession with bringing my mother into this? You seem to forget that I am actually quite an intellectual woman and I saw everything with open eyes. But that doesnโt matter, Laura. The truth of the matter is that poetry is artistic interpretation of emotions. I wrote this in a pretty dark period of my life, and maybe I only view things from one perspective but at the time, it was my life. So for you to waste your time and write this comment, just proves to me that you and your โfriendsโ are still too busy talking about us than with living your life. And I know my brother is a good man, he is the best man and how he has grown up astounds me because he is incredible. And donโt talk about my mother, our relationship was baptised with blood, sweat and tears and I now understand her more than I ever have. And you obviously have no idea how to interpret poetry; I didnโt write with venom and hatred, itโs quite clearly pain and confusion. What I felt is not up for debate because that is what I felt. Considering how high my stats are from yesterday though, Iโm guessing you showed everyone. Thanks – I know Iโm a good writer. Youโre welcome. Donโt ever comment ever again unless you know how to read poetry.
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