Herablassung | poetry

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

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2023 | Instagram: croque_melpomene
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