the worst dad i could have had, .. Options

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Why? (a kind of ... poem, not so poem thing)

Why do you never say "I love you", why do you never care? Why are you scared of that man in your house, why do you say you don't dare? I'm tired of the questions. The answers are too cold. The fact is so revealing, its unbearable to hold. You'll wish you've never asked those things, you'll wish you've never cared. Some things in life will kill you, these things you've never beared.

When i was young the only one i've ever called a dad. Spoke mean words and proved himself, the worst father i could have had. He loved his hands they hit so hard, many precious things they've scarred. His voice like thunder, scared me so, when he yelled, i'd lay down low. My own room, my hiding place, the only place i loved. When he'd yell and when he'd hit, it'd be my room to which i'm shoved.

These beatings, these yellings, the first memories i held. to bigger instincts these things grew, a protective shield they swelled. My left eye would be a baseball, black and blue to match, how did my eye become so big? well, i've never learned to catch. Yes, this bullshit is my excuse for my head that's so beat up. why was my arms so scratched up? well i fell on a broken cup. I've run into a thousand doors, a few books fell on my head. My back is somewhat tensed up... i fell backwards on my bed.

Sometimes i would hear sirens, those cops who were my friend. They took away my dad and told me it would end. but he'd never dissappear forever, he always came right back. My house my home when he was gone, but when he came... a shack. I've learned to live in constant fear, of this man i called my dad. he's not really a dad to me... he's the worst i could have had.

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sorry for the double posting ... but i wrote this when i was ultra depressed. it was after my friends keep asking me why i never say anything good about my parents or why i never tell them i love them. and i told them to stfu. they don't know anything.