Drip, Drip, Drip

Let me turn the faucet knob and let the water drip for a while,
Time to allow a small river form so I can build a dam again.
My father was not a nice man,
He haunted and tortured my family for many years.
The nightmares were more than I could count,
The worries and fears drove me across worlds.
He made his home in abuse and sexual perversion,
My life has been dedicated to be his opposite.
I sometimes find myself wishing for a father,
My life feels as if I missed out on something grand.
In reality, it was he who missed out on me,
He who missed out on my greatness.
My accomplishments not so big in a worldly view,
They're big enough for me.
My new understanding of love shrunk my inner circle significantly in my adulthood,
But who is happy in a sea of friends where one could drown in the background.
I now have my life lessons,
My battle scars and my poems.
Ah, my beautiful words that I admire,
These words that I live to be tortured by.
You see now father dearest,
My issues now no longer are blamed on you,
I look to them and own them because they are mine.
Oh but there is one thing you gave me,
The one thing I depend on every day.
People let you down,
But you have the choice to build yourself up.