Daughter Of Mine: A Poem

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I stem from your body.
I inhaled you,
The pieces, the collective you,
The body corrupted, the father incarnate,
Unable to reconcile, to speak, to exist
On the same page.

I wished I could.
I tried, but your brain is a wall.
Your face a lie, some version, exposed
But careful, daughter of mine, the possession,
The obsessive claim, ownership,
Of the female body.

I have you on my face, your rage in my own gut.
How you ran away from everything painful.
The terrifying sound of your slippers.
The staircase cut short, the rotten temper 
Out of proportion, listening to you,
Muting your mouth, the spit, the bile
And viciousness, and harvesting my guilt,
My abhorrent self, how I let things happen,
How I let you happen in the name of infantile love.

I looked for it in invisibility.
I had no idea what it should look like.
I searched for it in the slap of your hand,
The curse words directed at my body,
The way you screamed that you cared,
And it got so sick and deformed, something of
Our own, a hand-me-down destruction, unstudied
And penetrating.

You touch what you don't deserve.
You envied my accomplishments,
Reducing them to nothing,
Reducing me to nothing,
Shattering me once I managed to 
Build myself back up,
Without your foundation,
But you always got me, Daddy.
Telling me I don't deserve it.
Telling me that I'm no good.
Telling me that look repulsive.
Telling me that I eat like a pig.
Telling me that you're glad to push the gas pedal 
So hard
Now that I'm in the car with you,
To die alongside you, you destroy what you create,
That's the way it goes, that's the way you ruled
Our worlds.
woman with curly hair
Photo by Ibraim Leonardo on Pexels.com

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