Ingenuous Truth

I’m sick of the hateful ways
You refer to the pettiness of my life
I’m tired of the cold, sardonic mornings
You so tenderly cut open with your knife

I’m alienating the lustful remarks
Telling me how succulent her b***s are
And how
I don’t measure up?

I’m done with your
Swelling of my face
Your raging eyes
Apologetic lies

Your heating pad
That comforts your aching back
I’ll throw it out
Along with your b***h with the rack

I still recall
The swinging belt
The masking sheets
The scent of blood
The sinful way
You express your love

The conniving way you obtain your change
The offensive connotations of my name
Your demanding hand
Bruising my face
The pseudo explanations of your case

Why did you think I'd care when you ran away?
You abandoned me
What’s that? Now you've nothing to say?

Why do you chastise me for the little things?
I can stand on my own two feet since you’re gone
You can try to justify your evil means
But, you know you’re wrong!

Why do you have a guise of lament when you illustrate hate?
I’d like to know why you lie about your annual rate
Can’t you see you’re just like your father?

I will always love you

I hate the way we are
We used to be better
I’m thinking of that day alone
When you bought me that black sweater

After all
I still regard you as my father
I just have one more question:
Why am I not your daughter?