You see everybody but me,
Why is that,
Biologically programmed to love me yet you don't show any,
Worst part is, you don't have a clue when you do what you do,
One of the only people in this world that can cut me deep with your words,
I know it's pretty absurd,
I get it,
You thought I'd be more,
But why you really mad at me for,
You're the one that painted my path,
Didn't kick me in the *** when I needed it,
You were supposed to gift me with encouragement, love and inspiration,
Instead,
I was given self doubt and scars that ran deep,
Never wanting to come across as weak,
Quite possibly the reason I can't sleep,
The reason I stay quiet and rather not weep,
Maybe I'm crazy to say it,
But you ruined me,
My ability to truly be free,
Because I'm trapped in this mind of mine,
I hope it pains you to know that you hindered my ability to grow,
No,
This isn't a show,
Yes,
I can't blame you for everything ,
But you sure didn't help,
Had to do all of this for myself,
Slowly building my self wealth,
Maybe,
Just maybe it's a good thing,
You know the whole, you believing in everybody except me,
Because when I finally get to where I want to be,
I'll have no one to thank but me.

a phone rings to my displeasure
- another time spent
in your voice
in your precious respect:
the one demanded
for which i was reprimanded
and ****** for returning empty handed;

and i ignore your call
long enough for it to get lost again
but your name
lingers inside my brain
the image of your name
the only markings behind my closed eyes-
i dont want to see it
i dont want your name to be it
i dont want to read it
i dont want to open your voice message
i dont want to believe it
i dont want to think it
i dont want to dream it
i dont want to watch your name flash by
i dont ever want my path to cross between it;
fifty five years of seeing your name cross out mine
is enough for me to finally delete it.

-a father's hand reaching out,
means nothing once its reaching
has been to pull and tear, and rip apart;
the pain is the only lasting feeling.

Who owns grief?
The one who cries the loudest?
The one who acts the most disturbed?
     Or *******-ish?
     Or eerily withdrawn and quiet?
The one who had The Best Relationship with the dead?
     The most unresolved?
The one who feels the most guilt?
     Who feels out of place at the funeral?
     Who resents the world?
     Who is named in the will?

How many people can have a share?
Who is allowed a say on the Board of Grief?
     Are children underage?

How powerful are the grieving?
Enough to command a neighbor’s chicken soup?
     Casserole?
     Cake?
     Family heirloom?
     House?
     Family entire?
     Telephone call?

From a distance I leap,
But no, I can't find you.
The sun is rising.
The glimpse echoes in the deep of the far east.
The beautiful days and memories of the endless love we both shared is lost.

How did it come to this?
Like a night without the moon and stars,
I lay darkened.
Alas, my heart lingers with great pains.
Shadows and flames of surprise and sadness conquers my mind.

Yes, I can feel it; even in my spines.
It is over.
There is no hope at all.

A new light from the recesses of my pains shall spring forth.
And in the solitude of my anguish,

I would sail on.
Often as the sun rises and sets,
I would banish and bury the memories of your love.
And never in the blooms of history,
Would I recall to it.