Hold on me.

Father is home. Before he came, I ran around the house cleaning, pushing everything back into place, opening up cleaning products that have never been used.
I made the house sparkle, inside and out.

After I was done and was out of breath, I looked at my hard work, and had this deep urge to destroy everything.
I wanted to tear the plaster from the walls, break all the glass windows and burn the furniture.

Now that I look at it, the battle of rage and tears rushing through me was not one of mere anger at a paternal figure, but because I was just so goddamn pathetic.

I still wanted to please him.
I still wanted to have his acceptance.

It was a mistake to think that I was  rid of him.

He still has a hold on me.

5 comments:

  1. Wow...powerful stuff. Was this written from a personal prespective or a fictional perspective? Amazing writing.

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  2. I have a bad relationship with my dad. I get this.

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    Replies
    1. Do you feel the relief when he isn't around?
      xoxo
      S

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