my father

 

January 14th, 2020

Trauma is personal. It does not disappear if it is not validated. When it is ignored or invalidated the silent screams continue internally heard only by the one held captive. When someone enters the pain and hears the screams healing can begin.

I'm angry because of my father. Because he would come home from work 5:00 sharp slam the door so hard the entire house would shiver.

I'm angry because of my father. His furrowed brow his artificial reputation and unrealistic happiness. Fake. F****** fake. He'd open curtains on my forehead, closing them late at night with his hands on me.

I am angry because of my father. He used to call me beautiful like my mother. I can hold a grudge in his secrets like it's a hand. I'm a worthless muddle, the black sheep, rage, full and rebellious. On the floor, in the rug. In the Kingdom of the almighty God, who will judge me as hard as he can because I'll never love a man.

Unless, he is so angry.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done. On Earth as it is in heaven.

I am angry because of my father.