Mostly in talks with my sister

Do I realize

I’ve been chasing something of a ghost.

 

A ghost that I’ve managed to idolize

Most of my life.

 

A ghost that avoided me

In dire times of need.

 

A ghost that was devoid of all

But anger.

 

God,

That anger has seeped its way

Into my life,

And stained my very foundation.

 

Always lingering.

Ready to lunge.

But I guess that’s what a father does.

At least mine anyways.