Like Father Like Daughter

Written on December 11th, 2014

I have a talent for granting merits that haven’t been earned
I told the world you were my best friend because I wanted to believe it was true
and I felt like most of me came to be as a result of you
I was made out of songs, of late nights and hot tub secrets
full to bursting with the kind of conversations you can never recreate
the ones that expand your chest and
water your eyes and
expose all your fault lines
I didn’t realize that if I showed you a crack, you’d know just where to push
I treasured the rawness, my vulnerability
I liked to think you appreciated it too
but I would tell you that I loved you and you wouldn’t say a word back
oh, the excuses I made for you so your indifference didn’t saw me in half

I’ve always loved poetry, but maybe my true calling is fiction
I was a professional at that craft when it came to you
I convinced myself I was important, but you never bothered with such lies
you didn’t hesitate to abandon me the moment someone better matched your strides
I think you abandoned yourself, too
in your place stands someone boasting an absence of flaws
but I’ve seen your faults with my own eyes
and I know it all, despite what you can hide
because I’m still missing what you stole from me
I guess I could tell you about someone beautiful I used to know
but it doesn’t matter, she’s not alive anymore
and to this day I don’t know why I wasn’t worth the effort
or at least an explanation
I’m not quite sure if I am worth anything anymore
when you stalked away, you didn’t even have the decency to shut the door

weeks pass in silence, and I’m afraid of forgetting
the way it was to wake up in your house
and know every wall as if it were my own
your mother’s laughter, your father’s absence –
I can’t quite recall their tones
I relive and retrace so much that I have bruises
my hands ache from never letting go, but nothing cuts worse than knowing
I can’t hold on to everything
because I’ve summed up my mistakes, every possible error
and I know they’re not enough to add up to this

even my attempts to reach out have been cut short by
your desire to flee anything that makes you uncomfortable
remind you of anyone else who ran away?
as someone who’s been left, I thought you’d know what this would do to me
but even after eight years you don’t have a damn to give
your betrayal tastes like metal and like blood
tear salt in this wound, I’m done biting my tongue

I’m exhausted.