literature

xxv. Alcohol

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juveniledelinquency's avatar
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Literature Text

counting the cracks
in the concrete
coming "home"

breaking momma's back
again
& again &
a g a i n

just like you broke so many promises
again
& again &
a g a i n


reaching for the door
knowing that it's locked
no key hiding under the doormat

wondering if it's really worth the try

pounding on the       windows
weeping on the        doorstep
begging for               forgiveness

i must've done something wrong
if you won't let me inside


i'm five years old again
wondering when you'll come home
wondering if you'll come home
wondering if you remember where home is
wondering if you remember who i am

wondering if you even care at all

then you open the door
and there's alcohol in your eyes
cigarette smoke on your clothes
and a stupid
apologetic?
grin on your mouth

and you're trying to cover up
hoping i won't see your fly undone

hoping i won't see all those empty beer cans
spill onto the floor
from the coffee table
or the empty cigarette packs
or that rolled up joint sitting in the ashtray
because i certainly can't see the area rug
under all of the above


but i do
even if you've shut the door again
as quickly as you opened it

i wonder if you left your dignity
where the key used to be
under the mattress
but i won't check
for fear of what i might find in its place


and for some strange reason
pity?
i still don't understand
guilt?
i get in the car with you
love?
and i let you drive me home
i wonder how you stay between the lines
-- and at such a speed, too!


when we get there
i turn to you and look for something to hold on to
hoping the words i won't speak shine through in my eyes
and persuade you to stay
and leave your lonely "life" behind
i wonder if you can understand that language
or if anything can reach you
from behind that numb shell of yours


but i get out of your truck alone
and head for home
while you set sail to the west
to brave the seven seas of labatt blue
alone

and i wonder if you heard me say
'i love you, dad'
before you crawled back into your bottles
all alone
where you can't hear anything at all
When the world's turned it's back on you,
I'll still be here,
and I'll still love you.

Because you're still my Dad,
through all the disappointments and broken promises.

I wonder if you know how much love can hurt.
Especially seeing you like that.

I wonder if you realize I cried,
when I heard the tears slip down your cheeks.
And I cried because your pride wouldn't let you get help,
and because you wouldn't take our hands,
and listen to us,
and end the suffering sooner.

Your pride will be your end.
I just hope you'll hear me say "I love you" before you disappear forever.
© 2009 - 2024 juveniledelinquency
Comments3
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JakeDDrake's avatar
Gah, sad poem is sad :\