A Want Gone Quiet

Once,
I was so lonely
that my father gave me doubt as a sibling.
As he found new gods
in a long needle and hot spoon,
I was given the company of denial,
and hugged Pop like buildings hug eviction notices. My mother bit her fists.
I kept still.
I do not cry for expectations met.
But now that he does not live above the sink
there is no naturality to his negligence.
There comes hungry emails,
kissed shut letters.
There is a fresh desperation
puppeteered by guilt.
It confuses me to no end.
It is as if he believes
I have saved a childhood for him.
As if I did not learn to tie my shoes
watching him tie off his arm.
How naive of my father to expect a welcome.
And how comforting to realize
that I am every part of unforgettable
he should never
have missed.

Once,/ I was so lonely/ that my father gave me doubt as a sibling.

Advertisement
Comments are automatically closed two weeks after an article's initial publication. See our comments policy for more.

Advertisement

The latest from america

Bodys Isek Kingelez. Ville Fantôme. 1996. 
The Nigerian artist has left us a form of art that transcends political and aesthetic categories.
Photo courtesy of the Archdiocese of Montreal
When I was asked to accompany the Jesuit saint’s arm across Canada, various fears and questions flashed across my mind.
Why are there so many Catholics on the nation’s highest court?
Allyson EscobarJuly 18, 2018
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
Said with purpose and conviction, the Memorare can remind 20-somethings that we are not alone in our restlessness.
Allyson EscobarJuly 18, 2018