death wishes

i usta sit
by darkened
winter windows
this same window
i now make art
with the light of
eons ago
i stared at the dark
reflecting little me
reflecting damaged me
back
waiting for him
to come home
praying
he would not
come home
death wishes
for daddy dearest
&
only forty years later
wishes
granted.

yesterday as i was driving back from dropping off the minions, my cell phone rang & “pure evil” came up on the screen.
i did not answer.
when i got home, i listened to the message. my mom, telling me that she thought he was asleep, but that my dad is dead.
that’s my mom, phoning around for a reaction before actually calling the paramedics.
so…my dad is dead.
don’t say you’re sorry, because i am not & if you say you’re sorry, it will only make me feel like a bigger shit.

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sleepover

i found something to do with my anger.
i was striking out at everyone i cared about, seemingly without remorse. well, there was remorse, but i tucked it away.
i was getting uglier and uglier.
then it occurred to me, that i could use thisĀ absence of remorse to stand up to the person i never have the absence of feelings to assert myself to.
if that makes sense.
in my head, i am always telling him i want him to leave, but in reality i only say it during fights. then he dismisses it as soon as the fight is over.
so today, knowing my heart was cold
i told him not to come back.
you know what a cunt i am? he is in wisconsin for the death of his grandma. i took that opportunity to tell him not to come back.
that’s how cold, hateful, frozen and dark my heart was today.
i told him, “there is no good time to do this. there just isn’t.”
and that is true. but it doesn’t make me think i am being something of a cunt by kicking him out right after his grandma died.
but the thing is.
this horrible depression started as soon as he left for wisconsin. this horrible hateful madness. which is weird–usually i am happy when he goes.
but i realized i was depressed because i knew he would come back.
that he would come back.
that he would be back in my home.
tormenting me.
that i would be right back stuck in a terrible situation
of his living here and refusing to leave.
fuck me.
i felt better after i told him not to come back.
i felt better after standing up for myself.
even if it does make me a cunt.
i stood up for myself.
i said the words i have been thinking for months now.
god,
what a fucking relief.

i don’t feel good about it,
but i’m glad it’s over.

this is from an ink splatter i did
a few days ago
when i was feeling this terrible energy.
you can tell,
the ink is pretty agitated.

inkstainsleepover

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