Lessons From my Dad

Image Credit:

Watussi from the Images Of Reality card set by artist Bruno Munari, 1977.

I look down at my hands and back at my

dad to say “these are boy’s hands” hardened

by the years of labor they were not ready for

“That means you’re a hard worker” I am

taught to not value myself beyond a hard day’s work.

Calloused, hard hands and a want to be pretty.

Worn and tired hands but the will to be seen by her father.

That contritely sick bastard.

Always second best to the guns, guns, guns

The same guns that drive marriages apart

Your mouth is a weapon if you know how to

use it and man did that guy shoot to kill

I don’t know what I did

My worn, tired hands always fighting his arsenal

I’m told i’m good, but only if I pray

I can be forgiven, but only if I ask

Forgiveness does not come from within, it

comes from a man

The same man that lays hands on you when

you’re wrong, big strong hands you cannot

fight off.

This teaches me forgiveness hurts and

should not be freely given, I will use this

later to damage relationships and self-

sabatoge.

I look at my dad and say “you still hurt me

1,000 miles away” and he’s bewildered

The separation of past and self.