Father, Father,
When I hear the word “father”
I hear an aching dissonance of all my nights of
Loneliness and tears
My father is not a “father” according to any meaning I can devise.
My father dyes
Me in all the colors of loneliness and rage
The defining of you, Father, is a lead-torn page
I was seven when I can recall the first memory of my father
A tall, hugely-built man
With scarred hands and a similarly scarred soul
A man whose image left a large, gaping hole
Father, oh, father,
When I think of you,
I’m lit aflame with a seething agony that burns out my happiness
And I’m left with the ashes of my peace that was stolen
I cry
I cry
Oh, Father, I cry for the time I never had,
The idea of a father I could never receive,
And I feel like I’m on a witch hunt for who’s to blame
Was creating my life just a game?
I know the answer, but I can't help but ask
for the little girl inside of me that felt like a product of some short-lived satisfaction.
I never got to choose
You and Mom weren’t together from the start
And I resented you for it.
In my eyes, you spread yourself loose
To women and women
And children and children.
And with each seed you laid,
You set yourself where I could never reach
And now you have a family,
With sons who grew up with a mother and father
And I hate myself for wishing you and Mom were still together
My little brothers, that family is a treasure
That fills up the chest to where I can’t fit.
Father, oh, Father,
I hate you so,
I really do…
But I love you
I love you so much
That this pain will forever go untouched,
Father.
When I hear the word “father”
I hear an aching dissonance of all my nights of
Loneliness and tears
My father is not a “father” according to any meaning I can devise.
My father dyes
Me in all the colors of loneliness and rage
The defining of you, Father, is a lead-torn page
I was seven when I can recall the first memory of my father
A tall, hugely-built man
With scarred hands and a similarly scarred soul
A man whose image left a large, gaping hole
Father, oh, father,
When I think of you,
I’m lit aflame with a seething agony that burns out my happiness
And I’m left with the ashes of my peace that was stolen
I cry
I cry
Oh, Father, I cry for the time I never had,
The idea of a father I could never receive,
And I feel like I’m on a witch hunt for who’s to blame
Was creating my life just a game?
I know the answer, but I can't help but ask
for the little girl inside of me that felt like a product of some short-lived satisfaction.
I never got to choose
You and Mom weren’t together from the start
And I resented you for it.
In my eyes, you spread yourself loose
To women and women
And children and children.
And with each seed you laid,
You set yourself where I could never reach
And now you have a family,
With sons who grew up with a mother and father
And I hate myself for wishing you and Mom were still together
My little brothers, that family is a treasure
That fills up the chest to where I can’t fit.
Father, oh, Father,
I hate you so,
I really do…
But I love you
I love you so much
That this pain will forever go untouched,
Father.
Peyton Henderson
