Weeds

I have grown to hate my grandfather. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather.

I have grown to hate his smile.

I have grown to hate his smile that used to greet me with such kindness and authority. 

I have grown to hate his smile that would tell me to keep my chin up when I was doubting myself.

I have grown to hate his smile that could light up room despite the ridiculous smoke stains left from years of his addiction.  

I have grown to hate his laugh.

I have grown to hate his laugh that could boom for miles.

I have grown to hate his laugh that would make you feel like you were the funniest human alive.

I have grown to hate his laugh that was as comforting as his hugs.

I have grown to hate his hugs.

I have grown to hate his hugs that would would hold you so tight you couldn't breathe but that moment of stillness was the best moment of relief.

I have grown to hate his hugs from his lap when he was telling you a story about his time in the navy.

I have grown to hate his hugs because I loved them so much and I know she probably did also.

I have grown to hate his glasses.

I have grown to hate his glasses that filled up half his face.

I have grown to hate his glasses that made his eyes the size of the sky.

I have grown to hate his glasses that I had only seen him moments without.

I have grown to hate the wrinkles in his face, 

the money that he makes,  

the cowboy belts he'd wear,

the boots to complete the look, 

the rasp he held in his throat, 

the black dye he used to cover his age,

the length of his fingernails,

the purse of his lips,

the height of his body, 

the polish on his shoes, 

I have grown to hate my grandfather beacuse he never learned to be wrong. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather because he never seemed like the abusive type...

well now that I think of it...

I have grown to hate my grandfather because I see myself as my grandmother.

I have grown to hate my grandfather because he scared her.

I have grown to hate my grandfather because he hit her.

I have grown to hate my grandfather because he lied to her. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather because I am her. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather because I now know that abusive relationships aren't just a fairytale to me anymore.

I have grown to hate my grandfather because I think I'm next. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather because my grandmother thinks she needs him. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather she doesn't.

I have grown to hate my grandfather because she is stronger than you. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather because he never told her that she was. 

I have grown to hate my grandfather because I have been given every reason to yet I still can't hate him.

I have grown to hate my grandfather.

I have grown to hate my grandfather.

I want to have grown to hate my grandfather.

But I love his smile and laugh and glasses and wrinkles and money and belt and boots and rasp and dye and fingernails and lips and body and shoes.

I have grown to love my grandfather.  

I have grown to love my grandfather yet this entire time, I was growing a weed. 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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