My father had to teach me sadness for me to understand happiness but I suppressed the tears and emotions that I felt of my inadequacies. I was only a child but I was learning fast what was I in this world. 

I always thought I was strong but I can’t deny that inside I do crumble when something tries to remove my memories. I already knew at that age that remembering would be the climax and a memory was all I had at the end of the line. 

So it made me mad, it made me sad that I was the one who extinguished the dying embers of my joy. Without any fire, what am I running from and what am I chasing towards? 

The sad part about the things I loved was that I could never hold onto them all at once, so I spent years of my life living in the past to make sure what I felt was real. 

I never saw the point in all this hustle, the glamour only extended so far but I was reaching beyond the stars, there was honesty in their words even though they spoke through silver screens. 

It felt like the moments of happiness were temporary but if you asked me, I wouldn’t deny that I felt heaven surging through my veins into my mind. 

The times I had thrown hate against the hands that raised me, I ask for forgiveness, but love is a word spoken silently & only in third person perspective.

Yes, we don’t dare question each other, nor demand love; we fear the laughter that betrays the aching within, but my father told me to be wise, do not allow your enemies to see within. 

I have many questions that I wish to ask my father but I only want to hear the stories he didn’t understand but loved anyway when he was a child and had happiness in his heart. 

How do you speak to a man whose happiness you have never known and who you hid your happiness from?  

Shrink low into your seat because love is like a tidal wave, I can’t escape it but I try anyway and they wonder why I’m a freak, but can’t you see how it terrifies me? 

Don’t touch me like that, don’t touch me at all, you are fire and I am ice ready to melt into nothingness and you can’t stop me when I’ve begun to drown within myself. 

But it was so hard, now look at me, writing about my father with the wisdom I might have 48 years to come, but now I know the power and sadness of time that cannot stop ticking away. 

Dear LORD, help neither of us to live our lives away, teach me what love is and tell me how to show it before it is too late.