wild and free, happy

You once said, “It’s easier to be kind.”

Those words, your lies, they play on loop in my mind.

You have fooled some into thinking you’re a sweet and gentle old man,

but they haven’t seen how things can quickly get out of hand.

I’ve witnessed your short fuse,

how fast you are to deny someone's right to choose.

I’ve witnessed your relentless need for control

instead of allowing things to naturally unfold.

I’ve witnessed your entitlement too,

how you expect everyone to serve you.

 

To my grandma, my mom, and her siblings.

You have learned to bite your tongue.

I wish I could go back in time

and hold you when you were young.

I’ve heard about his guilt trips, his temper tantrums,

and how he threatened to leave.

I know there’s so much more I haven’t seen,

but I believe.

 

To my mom.

I know how his voice still rumbles like thunder,

causing your breath to feel stuck in your throat.

I know you are often hesitant to rock the boat.

I know how uncomfortable you feel hugging him.

Saying “I love you” feels odd and somewhat grim.

I know you wanted your parents separated as a child.

You wanted your mother to be wild and free, happy.

Not in an unwavering state of anxiety,

bearing so much responsibility.

 

Your mother is well into her 80s now,

but your tears still claim she deserves better.

She does and so do you.

I wish he was a kind partner

and a loving father, too.