Father, You Left Me with Ghosts

And all I have is rage

By AmyPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

I lost my father a year or two ago,

I'm always off by one.

And the rage I feel

Is a warm, loaded gun.

Searching through crowds for who

Will dare speak wrong to me.

Smiling at their shattered nose,

Teeth red as we both bleed.

Waiting, Watching,

Like it was all a thrill.

Until one day I realized,

I just wanted to feel.

And when I finally looked over

At the other end of the gun,

It was me, just a daughter wishing

For one more chance to go fishing for fun.

Writer of my thoughts and emotional babble. Storytelling is my hobby.

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