"You should talk to your father more.
You know he loves you,
right?"
I nod my head.
Eyes rolled to the back on my scalp
I pretend to shoot missiles across the dinner table
from my eyes
project project project
your voice
is a weapon
So I scream
so silently
SURE.
"Okay, okay,
Alright."
I talk to my father when I'm dead broke.
Lost the feeling in my wrists.
He asks if I wear the watch he bought me for graduation.
It's a pretty watch.
It's an expensive watch.
I wear it when I need to buy more time.
Wonder where childhood went,
I must've missed out on all the fun everyone talks about.
"So I heard people tell me about your poetry,
they say you're really good. That's good.
I'm so happy for you"
I nod my head
and bite my tongue,
silently drowning and I don't really want to be saved
This has got to be a dinner from hell.
I wonder if they tell you that I write poems about you.
Bad poems.
Daddy issue poems and abandonment poems.
I look for love in the arms of the wrong people
I fell blindly for someone who reminds me too much of your wrong.
You called him handsome and he smiled.
You want me to be with a boy who reminds you of yourself.
I drown.
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