Father Wound
If you asked my mother,
She would say I’ve always been this way-
Poised on the precipice of
A bottomless hole of anxiety
You see, I have never known peace.
Her favorite story to demonstrate this
Is the constant clenching of my fists and jaw since the age of 3
Since I began to comprehend the world around me
And make sense of
The chaos
Inside my head
I was 3 the first time a man disappointed me-
After a weekend away, I was so excited to see my father
I ran towards him down the driveway, arms outstretched
“daddy, daddy, I missed you! I love you”
He pushed my toddler self to the side
“No you didn’t, little bitch”.
I’ve carried that ache inside of me.
It’s probably why I go searching for love in all of the wrong places.
12 years of therapy and all they can do is tell me to breath—
But how am I supposed to breath
When a lion sits on top of my chest
Ready to rip my tongue
From my mouth
And soon as I open wide?
What if the truth is—this is as good as it gets?
What if I never find the peace I’m longing for.
I’ve been searching inside of myself but all I feel is
Empty
Hollow
Dark
Each day is a performance and I
Never know what the score is
I go through the motions
Hoping to feel….something
Anything.
I do not wish to die, or sleep, or stop-
All I want to do is feel-
Joy
Light
Or softness
But I have always been this way.














