You swept away the unused memories I shed like leaves
On the weary kitchen floor
After fifteen years of resisting autumn.

I left my rusted self-esteem buried behind your
Wintry disposition.

You can keep it.

You canned and sold your famous words of contamination
While I waited on the front step of a door you’d never open.

So I washed away the residue of unrelenting scorn
You happened to unleash on me for loitering at times.
My skin flushed with irritation from your mordant tendencies.

I waved goodbye with hands yours always dispossessed,
My fingers gnarled from fruitless attempts at picking your lock
(in search of fatherly affection).

Finally crippling arthritis forced me to grow up.



{Note: I think that if this issue didn't hurt so much I could probably
write about it better. oh well}
 
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