hamzah !

you dont like me; not the way you did 10 years ago, and yet, in this father-sized ache, i still want you to please hold me- love me- cherish me——this time i'll be better but you still wont think so and every time you get angry at the smallest things i gradually forget the times you carried me on your shoulders and the afternoons at the hospital and the way you celebrated me like a trophy of life, and when i die at 16, youd wish you were there for me when all you were was the perpetrator of my demise

i grimace at the sentence "youre just like your dad" and as much as i choose to refuse, i know i can never escape this primal, induced rage and the hate i convey to others when everything is too much and the religion that will hold onto the guilt of my being and the fact that no matter how hard i try, he will still reside in the corner of my brain i fail to evict him from. i dont want to be like you; i will always be like you