I’ve always found it hard to feel good things,
Therapists call it depression; parents, much worse things.
I spent years masking pain I couldn’t see,
when the only thing I wanted the chemicals for,
was so I could finally lose sight of me.
An ungrateful child with no right to suffer,
a poor excuse for a man who should be tougher.
Being cared for but never seen,
being raised by a two-headed guillotine.
being free but never liberated,
being supported but never advocated.
These were the days that I recall,
before my precious son was born.
because he helped me see I couldn’t be an absentee,
I had no option but to finally belong to me.
No judgments or unreasonable demands,
love me dad, show me how to be a man.
Rock him to sleep, wiping tears from both our faces,
So very grateful for the mindfulness of these embraces.
The way you thank me will be your choice,
Not my property or an extension of my voice.
I give all of myself to you and yet I’m free,
And even though I’ll love you more than I ever thought I could,
you, my sweet, will never belong to me.