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.



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.