they put words in my father’s mouth
words that he’d never say, never mean
words that won’t give him his life back
as it was, as he destroyed us
my father survives
what remains, what always remains
never calls itself my father
unless possessiveness emerges
calls me home, only then
am I his daughter
when he wants blood on his hands
when he turns me into the recipient of his rage
and can only see himself
and I’m trying to hide his face in mine
but my father knows where to look for everything he hates
and smash it against four walls and call it love
beneath a broken sky
contaminated
in my father’s home I become unidentifiable
Croque-Melpomene 