You have taken my pleasures in life and l must say l have to take back what belongs to me.
Thy father looks down on me, and you despise me too because l was not born of the same womb.
I have longed for the day that he would tell me that he loved me and he was proud of me,
I have waited for him to say those words
And for years, he has never said a word.
So l say these words
For the little boy in me who still awaits his father’s love
“Father l have waited for the day that you will tell me you love me. Father l have waited for the day that you will embrace me as your son ‘cause there are things I don’t know,
And I thought maybe you could teach me
How to shave,
How to dribble a ball,
How to talk to a lady,
How to walk like a man.
Father take me home ‘cause I decided awhile back
I want to be just like you, but I’m forgetting who you are.
love this girl who finds the word ‘woman’ a cloak too heavy to don most days you deserve someone who wears the moniker like banner carries easy like sun in summer but, child, what can I tell you of peace when you were probably conceived in a cacophony of questions
Still, I think of you as possible can feel the breath of God light against your skin can hear you, softness, eyes closed laughing real as the beating staccato against my chest
I wish that we are not too much like shadow and brick voices thrown against walls these hands are tired of building
I want you to like me
To know me
To know me now
In moments like this your mother lays awake watching, yet, another morning from the wrong side practicing slow this breathing that will one day usher you into this world
I still fear that you will never know sleep but I know that I need your laughter need the gentle curve of your fingers need your eyes locked on mine need you here, now for balance
I still think you deserve more than this threat of me as your mother still attempting her own world of colored things but child, just promise me that you will be, eventually
I need your possibility like I need a night worth sleeping for
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt