I want to know about my past.
about my family.
about my original sperm donor.
about his past, his family(about the blood that also circulates inside me).
I have tried to talk to his son (my long lost brother) but it seems to be a dead end street.
I found his wife on facebook.
I emailed her but again, n o r e s p o n s e.
They have made it clear they dont want me in their days, in their thoughts.
but for some reason I havent given up.
I wish I knew his mother..I heard she was a great woman.
Damnt it cancer.
why must you be so vicious?
please leave my life alone.
please.
last night I found a cousin I never knew I had online..weird.
I emailed her.
I hope she responds.
I also found my aunt. I remember getting a card from her and my uncle when I was younger.
My uncle (his brother) is a doctor.
He delivered me from my mothers womb.
He was the first person to see me.
To touch me.
To feel me.
To smile at me.
I wonder what his life is like.
My mother said he was a real character, her favorite out of the brothers.
I wish I could see him again, its been 22 years too long.
I wonder if he would recognize me.
maybe my smile?
my cry?
my eyes?
but then again when he saw me they were all filled with white gooey stuff for I had not been cleaned yet.
Have I ever been clean?
I wonder if he ever gave me a bath?
Washed my hair.
Rubbed my hands in soap..the same hands that I've heard looks just like his.
He was around for awhile before he left my mother.
He heard me say my first words (I hope it was fuck you).
He watched me take my first steps (I hope it was to my mother).
He read me books, bought me toys, and listened as I sang the ABCs.
Then he left.
I probably smiled as I said "Goodbye daddy" not aware that it would be the last time I ever said both words.
Its besides the point now because both words have lost their meaning.
I decided to write him a poem.
an ABC poem.
Its the least I could do right?
Afterall, he tought my my ABC's so it only seems fitting to write a poem that incorporates his teachings and my feelings upon his departure.
He left me with 20 consonants.
5 vowels.
and 1 giant Y.
For this letter is far too important to conform to any of these 2 catagories.
Y will always stand alone.
Always.
And the silence sways in
But it still seems so loud
Cant find the source
Don’t want to find it..
Enough is enough
Find it some other day
Got my lips sewn shut
Have no room for setbacks
I need the fork in the road to come
Just need to find a way out
Keep myself together
Long enough to feel clean again
Maybe someday I’ll know the truth
Nothing but the truth
One day I’ll be free
People come and go
Queens and kings die alone
Reasons never find meaning
Still I keep on trying
Trying to get this right
Unlike you and all your make believe lies.
Very convient, you agree?
What happened to you?
XXX?
You counting all the times we felt each other?
Zero.
i liked that a lot. that's a lame thing to say when you just say that, but i mean it.
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