Patriarch

Patriarch

A Poem by Not here
"

You wanna come now and then? Don't even bother. Playing "Dad" for a week doesn't make you a father

"
You wanna come now and then? Don't even bother.
Playing "Dad" for a week doesn't make you a father
So this is how you really want it to go,
us sitting and waiting and hoping you'll show?
You say you're confused, want another chance, No
This is your one chance, one life, and you know
that. You told me that. You at least owe
us an explanation besides that hoe.
I'm sick of the lies, the cheating, the leaving.
You leave us here, every time. Can't you see we're grieving?
Are you blind to your family? Blinded by desire?
Are you so captivated you can't feel this fire?
Put the goddamn matches down, call the firefighter.
Put those hands around my throat, now, squeeze a little tighter.
I hope you really like those girls when you're in 'em,
'cause everytime I think of you my heart fills with venom.
Spit it. Slit it. What do I care?
Will you stay around here or there?
Anywhere?
Do you even shed a single tear as you tear
my heart? It's there
in your hands.
You are not a Superman,
you are something less than a madman.
A bad man.
Do you have a place to stay
while you sickeningly waste away?
Is that a concern to you?
Where you get that money, dude?
'Cause we're living on f*****g food stamps,
and you promised we would be champs,
that in the dark you'd be our lamp,
but now we really feel the clamps
are coming down upon us now.
And I won't bow,
sweat on my brow,
not saying I'm holier than thou,
but at least I know where my family lives,
and I don't swing by just to kiss the kids,
leaving them worse off than they were before.
If you get lost, I'll show you the door.
Think of all the promises you swore,
all the times you said you'd be more.
You were so sure, 'til our house was war,
splattered dishes and gore,
the person lying on the floor,
feel that knife stab in my core
from the person I used to adore.
Guess all of your love was the decor
for a house crumbling behinds closed doors.
Don't blame me for that uproar,
...
you caused it, no reason, what for?
Does she really mean that much more?
But as I envision that w***e,
it's not her I blame. It's your
fault that we're in this. Therefore,
I might open up that drawer,
draw the gun. What an eyesore
when I'm dead on the kitchen floor.
But I know that you'll ignore.



Yeah, you texted me the other day.
I never know quite what to say.
"I can't believe that this is real.
I still don't know how I should feel.
I'm having a mental breakdown, see,
and the rest of it is history.
I'm sorry it's ended up this way.
I just can't find the words to say
I love you."
I appreciate the thought, I promise.
Those words, so comforting upon us.
But the family needs more than words.
We need actions, and it sounds absurd
but we aren't doing so well. Did you notice?
Did you notice the broken car, the trashed yard?
Did you notice the bent fence, glass shards?
Did you notice the old bills, the credit cards?
I don't know what to tell you, but it's hard.
I know your dad left your mom when you sixteen.
You never saw him again. I know he never got clean.
And I never knew what that felt like, until now.
But you didn't have to go and do the same to us. How
is this ending in your head? Is it ending well?
Do you think we'll find our own path out of this hell?
'Cause to me, the path ahead is dark and it's full of trouble.
We sit inside our broken house, floating in our lonely bubble.
Nah, we don't take much help, and no pity.
No matter how tough our life is or how s****y
we keep working. We keep fighting.
But you... you keep talking. You keep hiding.
And yeah I'll stay in touch. I don't want you leave.
And I don't want you to believe that we won't receive
you whenever you're ready. Our doors are wide open,
and we will keep hopin',
because we don't have the money to repair 'em.
And the little ones? It scares 'em.
We have no real answer.
Their doubt is like a cancer.
And it won't stop growing.
'Cause you are still glowing,
but now you're up in the sky, and you're too high.
You're like a shooting star, make a wish, goodbye.
I try not to ask why,
try to make you the good guy,
but sometimes it slips. I
cannot help but cry,
'cause I still taste the high
of what our life might
have been like. I sigh.
I'm so mystified.
And when you drop by
it doesn't help dry
the stains on my bed
or the guilt in my head.
You said don't think it was my fault.
I know it's not.
You said don't try to save them all.
It's a tantalizing thought.
But at the end of the day,
I know there's no way to say
"I love you too."

Playing "Dad" for a week doesn't make you a father,
but can we make it two weeks? Try to go farther?
'Cause honestly I need you more than you need me.
And if there's some magic words, please help me to speak.

We all want you back, and we all need you here.
Forget what they say, what they accuse, they aren't near.
We'll take you back, all your debts, all your beers.
'Cause playing "Dad" for two weeks can quiet the fears.

© 2018 Not here


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Reviews

WOW. I am sitting at work and I felt this. I had a mother who left when I was 15 and it destroyed me. All my anger from that day until even now is just a broken up version of how much I missed her and now how much I missed who I needed her to be. This spoke to me and your delivery was impeccable. I am sorry to know that we share this story. But you made something beautiful and full of emotion. Well done.

Posted 5 Years Ago


You words honest and true. A AWOL father cannot repair a life time of separation. Thank you my friend for sharing the powerful and worthwhile thoughts.
Coyote

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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Added on February 8, 2018
Last Updated on February 8, 2018

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Not here
Not here

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