the only time my father was happy to be alive
was when he stood onstage
*
I was nowhere near him
*
I was part of everything
that he wanted cut off from himself
*
he hurt too much
and we hurt too much
one room couldn’t hold us all
*
my father was an escape-artist
past tense
I never knew which one of them
was my father
*
distance can be an act of reconciliation
*
you didn’t want to hear me speak
and I don’t want to hear you speak
*
I’ve endured your monologues
I reclaim my words
and you learn to live with your silence
*
I revisit your violence
and confront our images
language comes back to me
and I let it live now
I let it come out now
I let it take over my body now
to step out of the corner
that you forced me into
and I make my peace with the fact
that this is real
*
who is this man
who wanted me to be born
who wants to tear me to pieces
*
as a girl I was taught to shut my mouth
as a girl I was taught to let things happen to me
as a girl I was taught that there was nothing to enjoy
nothing to endure
I just needed to be present, my body just needed to be present
and absent at the same time, myself, absent, absent-minded
nothing is happening
but I need to be quiet
and shut my mouth
why
if there’s nothing to tell
*
I endure my father’s unlived life
Croque-Melpomene 