A poem inspired by memories of my father
I saw you in the darkness again.
With smiling skeletal teeth and a coughing laugh.
The look on your face said you had intent, said you weren’t impressed, said you were stubborn.
Yet the mask you attempted to portray was one of happiness, innocence, and enjoyment.
I have always seen you. While there is good in you, there is much more darkness.
You were mostly kind in not exposing me to all of your demons,
But you intentionally placed me within the grip of others.
As you fade from memory and my life, I am reminded of the darkness that you gave me.
Ah, but the darkness you gave away is motivation. Fuel. Energy.
And without your guilt to remind me of its intent, I burn it in the fire of passion.
Your darkness serves as a tool to remind me of my core, not as a sadness or longing.
Your darkness was a gift, even if it wasn’t intended that way.
Few of us know how to harness the darkness and you proved that well.
You were weak.
You were fake.
You are dead.
After your time, I became bitter for a while. Mad at a god that I once mildy believed in.
So mad that I cursed that being with my fists, my screams, and my common sense.
I was right to curse it. I have always known the truth. But the hatred and anger have turned.
Something else now resides there. Fuel.
My god is my own mind. My demons are my strength. My failures have become my new path.
All of this is inspired by so many things. But you have yourself to blame.
I say blame because you do not deserve credit.
You may have been kind and shared that with others from time to time.
You are bad.
You are evil.
You are dead.
And I love you anyway.
This poem came to me only a few days ago. This is a recent response to memories of my father during his life.