dear father

I listened to your so called buzz words, your sense of control fading with the disgusting trash that exits your mouth. So unappealing, so very unappealing and yet you think it is funny or worthwhile to continue the antics of a child during the prime of your retirement. The retirement that beat you, hit you, pushed you, whipped you, shoved you just like you promise to another and this morning it was me.

I listened and distanced myself knowing the one thing, the only thing you wish to have from me I will not give you, control. And you will continue day after today, as you did today and plan to tomorrow and I will not be who and what you wish for.

It is my path, my journey and my life and until you stop claiming it as your own, we have nothing of substance to speak about. The surface is tiresome and to look your direction, boring. It did not have to be, but you yearn to maneuver my strings and I no longer am your puppet and realize, I never was.