Tears That Came Too Late

For almost forty years, I hated you,
blamed you,
Tried to be nothing like you.

I patterned my life
to be everything you were not.
I learned to suppress
the parts of me that came
from you.

Every time she cried
it was your doing.
Every time I lied,
it was your doing.

You were everything
that I despised,
never more so,
than when I
saw it in the mirror.

So why -
fifteen years
after you drank
yourself to death -
when I saw your picture
on Father’s Day,
I cried for you,


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