#toxic father poem

[aphrodites-serenade]

My father is a small child in a man's body

I say a lot of things about my father. He's aggressive, dismissive, and self-centered. And yet I can't help but pity him. I see how his eyes look when he sits alone at the dinner table. This wasn't the life he envisioned for himself when he was a young man. He likes to say he doesn't need to prove himself to anyone but lies to his coworkers for validation. He puffs his chest and criticizes himself in the mirror. He swears it's a habit he wants to break. I'd like to think that that's what he sees when he yells at me and my brother. His father taught him that real men don't cry. I guess what I mean to say is that he's still a small child trying to be a man. He's failed. And I could try to hug him, give him the comfort he's never felt, but he'd push me away. He's a scared boy who doesn't know what he's doing here.

[thesongsofautumn]

~happy father’s day i guess

[rotinmycore]

hell is my parents love.

[kissesbeneaththescars]

🎉🎉 I WISH I WAS DEAD 🎉🎉

[bitikoyku]

In a home where cold indifference finds its place,

A child lights a flame with a fragile grace.

Burning memories of what could have been,

To warmth the heart that once locked within.

Seeking solace in the fire's glow,

A warmth they'd never come to know.

In the crackling grow, they find a space,

A fleeting comfort in the fire's embrace.

[forestgirlpoems]

are your feet sore?

from trampling all over

the promises you litter on the ground

I hope the glass shards

of my heart that you broke

make your legs bleed

if not your soul

[pumpkins-collective-life-stories]

Sorry

Im sorry you missed the day I came home.

I'm sorry you left my Mom all alone.

I'm sorry you missed the first time I walked.

And I'm sorry you missed the first time I talked.

I'm sorry you missed tucking me in at night.

I'm sorry you missed turning off my light.

I'm sorry you missed me getting my first fright.

And I'm sorry you weren't there to tell me it's all right.

I'm sorry you never really cared,

Never bothered to make a call.

In fact, I'm not sorry in the slightest bit.

I'm not sorry at all.

You should be sorry,

Sorry to me,

And sorry to all of us,

For what you couldn't be.

A Dad is supposed to love,

Protect, worship and care.

A Dad is supposed to do all of this,

But most importantly be there.

But you couldn't provide,

Protect or care.

You couldn't worship.

And you couldn't be there

Because you made the choice

To never try with me.

Sure, you're on and off now,

But it's just too late, you see.

I mean, I get it now.

And although this makes me sad...

You will always be my father.

You'll just never be my Dad.

[happydahlia]

I know who you are

You’ve never really known me,

I am not what you decided I should be.

I am not defined by the memories you choose to remember,

Or the ones you conveniently forget.

I am more than the mask I showed you,

The mask I wore to protect myself from your lies.

You’ll never really know me,

I won’t let you, you lost that privilege long ago.

When you left me broken hearted,

And all my love for you departed.

As your ego shatters, shards shining as they fall,

I’m building up my inmarcesible wall.

I hope the words I wrote you will make your tears descend,

A drop for each lie, for each pain you caused, karma always finds you in the end.

For now I know the real truth.

You’re not a good person, not the kind soul you paint yourself to be.

And you’ve never known me at all.

A/N:

TW: talk of mental health, poor mental health, abusive family member, trauma

If you couldn’t tell by (or haven’t read) my other work, it’s pretty clear that I don’t have the healthiest mental state. A few weeks ago I was improving greatly, but that all came crashing down just over a week ago. I had some things happen within my family that I’m not going to share here, but they ultimately led to my decision to fully cut contact with my biological father. This poem is not one of my best, it’s not really good at all lmao, but it’s my way of getting the closure I need. I am so sorry if you can relate to it in any way, but if you do i understand how you feel and you are not alone.

As always, feel free to share how you interpret or relate to this poem, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

@world-seen

[lizziessecretcorner]

[paincorner]

I need a father. I need a mother. I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[aphrodites-serenade]

Noisy house, noisy mind

The house that drained so much of my life force is growing smaller by the second.

I never did say goodbye to my bedroom, the only room that provided solace.

There was no time for words.

Even in the midst of my escape, my parents spared no kind words.

I knew then,

there was no use in one final look.

Why remember something you’ll never come back to?

I could begin to erase those memories, I thought.

I could push back all the screams, all the tears,

Push them far enough so they’ll never resurface.

–

The empty room that now lies before me is mine to change.

A new beginning, or so I thought.

How could I have known?

No one who leaves a noisy house has a peaceful mind.

A seed was planted in me before I was born.

It has grown into a terrible weed, into the shape of something like a man.

My fingers dig deep into my scalp,

Attempting to drive him out of my head.

He does not leave. Will he ever leave?

–

Oh, I beg you to answer me.

How am I supposed to heal,

when I haven’t yet escaped that horrid place?

The screams, the tears,

they’re louder this time, so much louder.

I fear I’ll die, oh dear, I’ll die.

This must be a joke.

I’ll die along with the same house that ruined me.

Only then will I get rid of this noisy mind.

[hdmiports]

every time i interact with my mother i feel like im going insane

[imbadatparking]

it feels impossible, but you are looking me. it feels impossible, but i'm still breathing.

there's a craves left behind where cracked blood-spilled bitterness leaked into the hole of my chest. there's a chiropractic shift in your tone of words and the taste of the tears on my cheeks. there's a divide between us, a divide you created with no work at all, just a set of keys and a crane and a staircase.

you slam doors and stomp around and yell, all God-almighty, repent for my sins, all blubbering apologies and weak, knocking knees, all this time, i know you're leaving for real.

my hair is wrapping around my throat and grab it and pull and i pull and i pull, the way you would've, had you been able. your fingers are ice cold and numb and i don't think they move anymore, i think they permanently stay in the shape of a fist.

how did we get here? i want to ask, it feels impossible.

| k. - it feels impossible.

(written for @/neon0strich literary journal based around the prompt hair)

[piscesthepoet]

knock on wood

[inbetween-life-and-sanity]

And even though I love you I hope I will never be anything like you.

[devotedlystrangewizard]

having to celebrate christmas with my abusive stepdad vs the fact that its the last christmas ill ever have to celebrate in this godforsaken household