Losing Someone Who is Still Alive

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


These poems are about dealing with the loss of a family member who is still alive, but no longer in my life. They're about dealing with rejection from someone who is supposed to love you
unconditionally, and I hope others can relate to these feelings.

Submitted: February 17, 2018

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Submitted: February 17, 2018

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Always, Sometimes, Never

 

He is my protector, my guardian, 

He is my father, and he is my friend.

 

He is strong, and tall, 

He is brave and smart.

 

I am eight years old,

and he can do no wrong.  

He is my dad. 

 

He smokes, and he yells, 

But he always helps me with my homework.

He is my dad. 

 

He can be mean, and he makes my mom cry,

But he always apologizes.

He is my dad.

 

Now he drinks, and he is never home,

But sometimes he smiles.

 

The bad days begin to outweigh the good ones,

Days full of empty promises, 

Days spent waiting for the phone to ring.

 

I am fifteen when he breaks my heart, when I see 

That he is my dad

But he has no problem hurting me.  

 

His apologies lose their meaning,

His smiles are not real. 

 

I am losing my dad,

slowly,

But surely.

 

And just like that,

He is still tall and smart,

But now he is weak and hurtful. 

 

The man who was my biggest protector

Is now the man who has torn me apart. 

 

He is still my father, but he is no longer my dad. 

 
 
 
 
 

 

Moments

Sometimes I wonder if there is a protocol for situations like these.

How long does it take to get over losing your dad?

 

A Google search reveals websites full of articles about the grieving process,

A process to overcome the death of a loved one.

 

But my father is not dead.

He is alive, but he is gone.

 

How does one overcome that?

Believing you are better off is not as simple as it sounds,

Because while it may be true, 

For all of the times I hated him,

There were times that I never loved anyone more. 

 

For all the moments he wasn’t there,

There were moments when he was. 

 

For all of the crushing things he said,

There were beautiful things, too.

 

And I cannot forget those things.

I cannot forget those moments.

I cannot forget the dad I used to have.

 

Pull it together

You are fine.

 

Pull it together

You don’t need him.

 

But I want him.

 

And he doesn’t want me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifty Percent

I need him out of my head.

 

I need him out.

 

I need to move on.

 

I need to be strong.

 

But what if I have been strong for too long?

 

What if finally

Finally

I am breaking

Becoming weak?

 

Weak like him?

 

He is my father after all,

And I am fifty percent of him.

 

Fifty percent.

 

That is half,

And half is a lot.

 

A lot to let go of,

A lot to move on from,

A lot to forget about.

 

How does one forget about half of themselves?

 

How does one let go of fifty percent of who they are?

 

How does one move on from someone who is 

Fifty percent

But have chosen to be

Zero?

 
 


© Copyright 2018 Sofia Burnett. All rights reserved.