How to reconcile
and wrestle into submission
the warring feelings
that he did the best he could
and he deserves grace
versus
I deserved more
so much more.
Turning a holiday that is celebratory of me
my sacrifices
blood, sweat, tears
into something bittersweet
lemon and one Splenda
in my tea.
I want to whip up a dust storm
a tornado tearing across the grassland
headed straight for him
but I can’t muster much more than malaise.
It’s not worth it
when I could turn that into determination
to break the fucking cycle.
Give those three little ones
what I always longed for
what they will always have
a present and consistent dad.