Poem about my relationship with my dad, TW for The Sads

[flamingsword]

Words mean things.
But what is implied by a lack of intent
Is ambiguous.

I feel unsafe around my father.
He would never try to hurt me, but
Safety means different things
To different people.

There is a safety on a gun.
Maybe that is an odd name for it
Or maybe I am just tired of pretending
That being ignored isn’t a form of violence.
Neglect is pain to me, freedom to him.

I keep people safe by breathing into the space
Between my intentions and my outcomes.
My father acts as though he has
No intentions, as though my safety is assured by that
But I
Have never felt like a thing that could be kept safe
Without being seen.
And I
Recall a thousand times of asking to be seen
When what I got were his averted eyes.

I was told to go play outside and maybe
My father thinks that freedom is a substitute for being seen
For being safe.

I sure hope it’s that.
The alternatives are worse.

Comments

[mific]

Lovely, and yes, sad.