Its weird
how blood runs thicker
than water.
For years now,
I waged a cold war,
with my Dad.
Did not wanna talk to him
Did not wanna see him.
My stubborn
and childish
resilence
crumbled,
when he went missing.
I could not sleep well,
spent hours
theoririzing
hypothesizing
analyzing.
Women come and go,
friends come and go.
But Dad,
I'm stuck with just one.
A fact that I cannot change.
I did not choose him.
His blood runs through mine.
I suffered
because I hated his version
of Fatherhood.
I suffered
because I hated his idea
of Marriage.
But just who the fuck
gave me the right
to judge?
We are all shaped
by our collective life experiences,
Dad is a mere manifestation
of his life experiences.
He loved his family,
the only way he knew how,
by dedicating his entire life,
to providing for us.
What I can give him
he does not want,
what he can give me
I do not want
either.
Just when are we
going to stop
pulling each other apart?
Reconcilation
have to begin somewhere,
it might as well
be me.
I felt peace
thereafter,
because I no longer held
bad blood
with my own.
