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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

i'm not a writer, this is just a "poem" (not really) about a conversation with my dad

Submitted: November 03, 2017

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Submitted: November 03, 2017




12:37 am: you: “Hey sweetie, how are you doing?”


Me: “Good, you?”


You: “Hanging in there, I’ll try come up for coffee next week”


Me: “Okay, can’t wait to see you”


You: “Sleep well tonight, I’ll talk to you soon”


This facade of normalcy we use to bury our skeletons is evident when each lie is decoded


When you ask me how I’m doing, what you mean is have I been able to leave my dorm room today without crying. What you mean is have I gone the week without thinking about you or death, which always seem to go hand-in-hand.


When I say good, what I mean is I’m still here aren't I? And when I ask you how you’re doing, it’s a three word plea to give me something I can hold on to or lie to my face. A reminder that every time you slip I slip too, and I can’t bear to mourn your loss again.


When you tell me you’re hanging in there, what you mean is everyday is another day you barely escape the pulls of liquor and tramadol. And we both know you’ll never be up for coffee.


When I say I can’t wait to see you, what I mean is I can’t wait to know your okay. What I mean is everyday not seeing you is a day spent worrying you’ve forgotten why you quit drinking. It’s a declaration of how I love you but I also hate you, and you love me but also hate yourself.


When you tell me to sleep well, what you mean is don’t let my mistakes following you into your sleep again. Don’t wake up screaming and crying. Don’t have nightmares from when things got bad.  When you tell me you’ll talk to me soon, what you mean is you’ll try to remember what it’s like to be a good father. It’s a glimmer of hope, that maybe you won’t leave me again.


But we can’t say this all in a text, so we say “good” and “see you soon”, and for us that’s good enough.


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