Dear Bill,

 

I feel that many things are due

As I’ve refrained from heart to hearts

For the sake of my old wounds

That you’ve refused to accept your part

In creating

 

There are many things you owe me

But unlike the parts of me you’ve broken

Most of them can be repaid with money

It’s a shame there’s nothing to be given

But you make it up to me by virtue of being poor.

 

How sad is it

That the most you’ve given me in a long time

Is because you’re living off of the government tit?

Through poverty, you’ve paid for more than you realize

At no cost to yourself, of course

 

Part of me wonders

That if you knew just how helpful your financial status is

Would you try to dig yourself out of the pit

That you were content with for years

Out of some sick sense of spite?

 

You’re just like your mother you know.

Maybe not the same pitch

But the articulation is spot on

No wonder you’d fight as if you had a script

It was imbedded in you from the get-go

 

You tried to force it in me too

Warp my brain to fit a game you didn’t want to lose

That’s why you started young

To force us all against each other

But making sure we’d still focus on you.

 

For years I was stuck in a prison of hatred

Where the jailers were my siblings

And you were the warden

It’s only with you gone that the doors could open

After all, jailers are only employees

 

What could the things you’ve done,

Which you claim to have forgotten,

Possibly have changed me?

Well, that action’s in present tense

Even though we don’t speak often

 

In what few conversations we have

I say nothing

How could I?

You bulldoze with your words

Not seeing the point where the worksite stops and destroying begins

 

But just because you can’t see past your blade

Doesn’t mean you do no harm.

Maybe it’s good that I never talk

Never share

You’d hate who I am anyways

 

You’ve gone on and on

About your feelings towards those

Who aren’t afraid to live a different life

Funny as a joke

And disgusting in every other context

 

I’ve tried to tell you to stop

That I hate it when you talk that way

But  

You haven’t

Why did I ever think you would

 

Just because I’m hurt by your statements

Just because your statements attack me as a person

Because they attack a key part of who I am

You’ve called me a rat bastard ever since my defiance started

Why did I ever think you’d let up the assault

 

Why did I ever think

That you could change

In a way that doesn’t actively benefit yourself

That you could change

For someone outside of yourself

 

You have changed

For the better even

But

These changes

They don’t affect us

 

How you treat us

How you see us

It’s all the same

Tainted by your own rosy lenses

That paint us as the same people we were eight years ago

 

As simple children

Who can’t think for themselves

Who can’t speak for themselves

But we did then

And we sure can now

 

And I don’t want you here

In the forefront of my thought

I shouldn’t ever have to think about you

And I don’t if I can help it

But if you chase me, I’ll run

 

Because I’m not strong enough

To deal with what you did to me

I don’t have the reserves

To expend on that kind of healing

Not yet

 

And I’ll willingly put off the brunt of the effort

For a while longer

Until I have the time and capacity to face it

All of it

Willingly

 

I’ll never forgive you

That much is impossible

How can you forgive someone

Who believes with everything they are

That they’ve done nothing to be sorry for.