I Have Your DNA (February 18, 2010)

What a quaint thought.
To be twelve years of age and wish you dead.
Praying to a God that never answers.
I self-medicate to free my thoughts of you.
Subdued thoughts. Momentarily dulled.
Memories of unhappiness in your eyes.
Was this a learned trait from your father?
Two generations removed from a womanizing alcoholic.
How deep was your hatred?
More than I detest you?
I pledge to my future wife that I will break the cycle.
To be kind and understanding. Firm and fair.
To be a provider and a father.
But I am you, and harbor great darkness.
I’m afraid because I can’t outrun myself.