Dear Papi,Fearful, silent, alone.&

Dear Papi,

Fearful, silent, alone. 

Repressed memories my therapist said. Flashbacks of a child I dont remember.

Screaming, threats, and words I was to young to hear.

My mother used me as a shield out of fear.

She and my sister slept in my bed, hoping you wouldn't want to throw blows over my head. 

But I loved you. 

As I grew older, the threats became more real.

I didn't know who to turn to, I didn't know how to deal. 

My family knew, my teachers did to.

No one wanted the trouble, everyone turned a blind eye.

Some nights were so bad, I even prayed you would die.

But I loved you. 

It wasn't all bad, some memories are good.

Like the time we took that trip, for a reason not understood.

Now I understand.

It was you buying forgivness for the tenth time. 

I should have known it would end the same as eight and nine. 

But I loved you.

I loved you, you were the only father I ever knew.

And now you lay in a hospital, with your addiction ending your life.

I'm sorry that I threatend you that night with a knife. 

I'm sorry I couldn't get you the help you needed.

Maybe I should have begged more, cried, and pleaded.

But I will always love you.