i still miss you, with every hating bone in my body

i hope that you think of me
i hope that your mind is flooded like mine was with yours,
i hope i was someone special, someone you could see a future in.
i hope you regret all the things you said to me that day, and then the next, and then
i hoped to hear you say that you loved me, that every mean thing you said to me was a lie,
that every thought that haunts me to this day was nothing but my own mind working against me.
i don’t remember your voice.
i only remember what you did, regretfully so.
i hope you read this and think of me, even though you’re no longer here,
no longer breathing

please hold my hand one last time

when people ask me about you, all i can do is smile. its all that i can muster up. a dumb, half-assed smile. people think its cute. they ask me if i miss you, i nod my head like the answer is obvious. what else is there to do? do i tell them that i wish you were still here so i could show you how much you affected me? so i could hug you one last time and beg you to tell me that you didnt mean everything you did to us? so i could hear your voice one last time and cage the sound deep under my ribs? i don’t remember how many years it has been. even with each year passing by, i still can’t come to terms with my reality. my throat still clogs up and my tears still want out when i think of you. what did i mean to you? were you ever happy to hold me close? i asked my mom and she said you always loved me, i didn’t believe her, do you think i should? did you die hating me? please answer me.

i remember when i saw you for the last time, i didn’t realise what was happening because no one would talk to me, i was gone as soon as i came. but i still don’t remember the day, how old i was, how old you were, what were your last words to me? i want to hear them again, even if its you wanting to replace me, wanting someone you find worth loving, worth calling your own blood.

i remember you laying in the hospital bed outside, it was dark when i walked up the ramp and saw your face while the adults pushed me back to not look at you. i’m glad i did. i remember your face being dark, unsettlingly so, your lips dry and your body covered with a white blanket. were you cold, dad? did you think about me when you took your last breath?

i was made to sit on the chairs, far enough to not see you but close enough to hear the chaos that followed. i remember being taken away, being led far so i could forget what i saw but even then i could feel my thoughts racing. i didn’t shed a single tear. was i selfish? i was happy for a moment too, i felt free, i felt the wind in my hair when i walked through those dark roads finally feeling like i wouldn’t have to walk a little faster to reach home so i wouldnt make you angry. i wouldnt have to go home to find you drinking away, the smell of cheap liquor on your breath each time you came close to me to shout. i wouldnt have to hear you hitting mom for giving birth to someone like me. i wouldn’t have to hear her cries. i wouldnt have to act like an adult to console her. i wouldnt have to spend my brithdays alone at the house. i wouldnt have to hold my tongue as to not upset you, to act like my mouth was better sewn shut with a dirty fishing line. because you weren’t there anymore. it didnt feel like much of a change, maybe you were never truly there to begin with. what i miss is not you, i wouldn’t miss a monster who made my mother cry. what i do miss is a father. a what couldve been. a what if. a different timeline.

now i think of you when im alone in the bathroom, staring at myself through the fogged up mirror. all i see is a weak little girl with tears in her eyes begging for something she’ll never get. but she begs, and begs, and begs like the selfish filth she’s always been. she wants to rip her hair out, peel off her skin, curl up in the shower to wash all her dirt away. all her past, all that she’s been through. but she knows if it wasnt for the dirt, she wouldnt be here. thats all she is. thats all she has ever been.

you didn't bother getting to know me

i yearn to be loved, all while dismantling the very foundation itself. a sadist, perhaps, with no greater victim than my own self. every attempt to break free from its grip has been futile, my existence is bound to its haunting shawdow, and without it, i fear nothing would be left of me. perhaps my fate is void of love, the only thing im bound to know is loneliness. will i ever be worth enough for you to get to know me? will you ever pry deeper? maybe you will, or maybe you'll leave. maybe i'm not meant to be loved, and if that's the case i hope my desire to be strips itself off my soul and emancipates the constant ache woven in my ribs as it leaves. but i know, even after all this, a part of me would still call out to you. every whisper of love and every promise you make, even if its all pretend, drowns me