
Dad
I remember
So please don’t tell me I don’t
Don’t say I was dreaming
Don’t say I was too young
I was awake the entire time
I learned to play dead that night
I learned silence is survival
Light filled my room
As you opened my door
Almost as if to save me
But it didn’t save me
I was so little
When you taught my body
Love was danger
I don’t wanna believe
That you chose me sober
As mom was asleep upstairs
After my body told on you
Regression they call it
I call it grief without a grave
I was four years old
When I lost a father
And gained one I couldn’t escape
Here’s the sad part
I still looked for love
I searched your face
My entire life
Wondering where it was
Beating myself up
Over why you didn’t love me
It was never me was it
I hated other dad’s
Other men
I hated myself
Because you taught me shame
He convinced the world you were a hero
And maybe that’s the worst part
How believable you are
You will die someday
And the truth is
I will grieve
Not you, but who I needed
Who I wanted to love
Who I wanted to love me
Who I always thought loved me
But never truly did
I will mourn the man
That should’ve protected me
And I will bury the childhood
That you never let finish grow
I will not forgive you
I will not romanticize surviving
I will not attend your falseness
I choose alienation over reconciling
I choose my memories
I choose myself
Goodbye Dad
About the Creator
Amanda Grace
I have been living with multiple chronic illnesses for over 20 years. At times I have felt trapped inside my home as well as my body. Writing gives me an outlet and a way to connect to people and the outside world. Beyond my four walls.
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