I seem to meet a lot of men like my father
The ones who’s gaze never settle on me long enough to see the magic
Or they see it but they turn away
Men who’s gaze are fixed at something on an ever-changing horizon
Men who are incapable of seeing kaleidoscopes
I seem to meet a lot of men like my father
The ones only capable of one visit per lifetime
The ones who prompt me to cut myself open to find the whys, the whats, the whens
The answers hide somewhere I fail to reach time after time
I fail without fail
I seem to meet a lot of men like my father
The ones who write love letters, but never to me
The ones who send kisses from a distance that arrive dead at my cheek
And all I feel is the graze of cold wind and empty
I am sick of men like my father
Men who won’t stay…
Father’s Day has been and gone. Every year I tell myself it’s just another day dedicated to something outside of myself and therefore it cannot affect me. Every year, I am proven wrong. I see people wishing their dads were still alive, or talking of their contributions on social media, or fighting to keep a mother’s name out of it.
It becomes a minefield of a day. Some like me keenly feel the absence of a father’s love and the failure of any male relationship after him while some joy in the memories.
And so I find myself wanting to express myself but there is one person who will want to jump me and silence me. But, there is no father’s day in my world, that is my reality. My lived experience. It doesn’t cancel out theirs but they would love to silence my heart’s cry but the fact remains; I’m sick of men like my father and the people who won’t let me feel how I feel. The wounds will heal, whenever.
Fin
Reblogged this on Random Thoughts.
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So moving Cat 😦
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Thanks my dear. Still affects me
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