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A good day starts with a beautiful dream,or sometimes,with cheeky lies; wherever this beautiful day takes me,I just can’t wait to get it on…

You used to say, on a good day you’ll only break my heart once.

That was before you learned how to lie.

Back then, when you used to try to tell the truth.

Because you and I never had the kind of relationship that allowed for secrets.

And now somehow alive to your cheeky lies, it’s better now. My life has one less complication to deal with.

My hatred for you is stronger than you can comprehend,
Just imagine what this fiery passionate
hatred could be,
If it were something beautiful like love
Could I love you just as passionately as I
hate you?

Calling your name as if to raise the dead,
Searching the skies for you as if to search for an angel?

Worshiping your life instead of praying for your death?

I hate you with a dark fiery passion,
Boiling over with scalding bubbles,
Burning flesh and inhibiting any escape,
Screaming inside and out,
Holding on to promises made by a false
truth,
Hate is powerful;
But so is this massive wave of
Feelings crashing down upon me
Tossing and turning me,
Taking me under and then regurgitating,
Never holding back any emotions,
For fear of anything especially yours.

It is like a secret letter slipped through the slot of a locker.

And that is why I hate you
Doubting myself because of your
Spitting and hissing at my every move
Molding my mind into balls like an angry
fist
Taking for granted that your shallow soul
Could withstand a blow from my winds
Then finally after all is said and done-
All the facts lay before the judge and jury
You have no sympathy for the betrayed
The wronged and unwilling to forgive
Only then, with help from the executioner,
Will a true justice be unleashed upon you
immortal soul
With the fury unmatched on the this plane
of existence
All your secrets, all the wrongs that you
have committed
All the innocent hearts that you have
spoiled
It is now the blood of the innocent is on
your hands
Burning holes in your diseased and
immoral skin
Threatening to completely destroy you
Mourning the past decisions that you’ve
made
Wishing that all that has been done could
be undone
All these terrible things haunting its master
But honouring the call of the pure and the
unsoiled
Identifying its enemy and punishing
without mercy
Hatred blooms like blood red roses
Thorns pricking when squeezed
Petals wilting where molested
Truly harmless by nature but not
defenseless at all.

A confession of lies and untruths,not to your parish priest,but to your own heart!

Because the doctor told you if there was anything more they could do to straighten you out, they would do it.

I’m not coming back for more of your cheeky lies.

And in the moment you knew the gravity of it all, you learned how to lie,cheeky lies to keep me on the string.

Because there are times when the cost of truth is so high, we to endure our own hearts to heartbreak.

We make love into a currency that
can’t be cashed in, because there has never been a bank that will give out a loan based on the collateral of damaged hope.

They reckon it’s like lending anyone just enough rope to hang their Own future on a dream, then scheme somewhere to foreclosure.

And everybody knows they’ve got billions of dollars, but no dads in their vault.

So you learnt how to lie.

Because it’s not his fault that he can’t
remember, that your mom, his wife, had a life that ended many years ago.

So, you are trespassing into his
past and into his name.

Because insurance and healthcare can’t cover the misplaced memories of families, whose secrets spill out jewels through the oversized holes in pants pockets that someone in the family has to wear for life.

And you tell me that every stitch is as valuable as every tear.

But pull a single string and the whole thing will unravel.

So you travel across borders under an assumed identity, where the broken branch of a family is built into a confessional.

And you listen to an apology meant for your mother.

Something about another woman
on a night before a flight back home.

And you half-heartedly forgive him,your so called horrible beast of a father.

Because that’s what your endearing mom would do.

But you still hate him with passion!

You know, because he says thank you, which means mom already
did pretend to forgive him too.

Hit the secret away, like one of those
strayed cats you used to keep hidden in
your room, hoping no one would ever
know.

And you tell me, I didn’t mean to
grow up?

It was an accident that you happened to have crossed my way in this life.

And I know you never meant to be 22 years old, having to go through this.

Having to miss and hate him at the same time you’re with him.

Having him gone at the same time he’s
there.

Having to stare at the first word you
ever said and now not being able to say
it well clouded out a promising relationship.

And you can’t remember despite your
best efforts how when the word ‘daddy’
became ‘dad’.

How two extra letters had and have all the safety of wavelessness.

We both know this, because I used to be your babysitter.

And when the nightmares would shake me awake, you’d make and take the time to tell me, daddy’s going to be
home soon.

Because to us that word meant security or bravery or “Dear Mr.
Useless man, you better not be under my
bed or in my closet, because my mom is
going to deposit her foot so far up your ass, the interest earned for this deposit alone, will be enough that she can retire early.

You grew up in your mom’s confessionals and were taught that a lie
under any circumstance is noble,swearing to untruths.

But how come the sacrifice of faith belonged to anything less than the virtue it takes to break one’s own heart to ease another’s descent into a none-entity.

How can anyone dismiss this special love as if it wasn’t the only reason to risk everything knowing for well you
can’t bring him back to your life,not now,not ever.

But there are no footprints or trails to track to find him.

He just vanished to his own refuge to find peace.

And when he found peace,he forgot about anything else that ever mattered to him,in his past,and in his unravelling future.

All you can is to be there, and you are.

Despite your own success, you still wear your mother’s wedding ring.

Because it was something to spite your dad. You took his place.

That was a bad day.

When you saw the way he couldn’t understand how your hand held someone else’s stolen promise of forever.

And that it is never you he will
remember, it’s her and her torments.

And the only time you’re ever sure if he still loves you, is when he asks: “How is our baby?”

And it may very well be that you break your own hearts too many times to count even on a good day.

Because you say: ”She’s good,my mom
sweety. She’s happy.”

“But my so called Dad is a horrible beast of a man!”

A good day begins with indifference,to those who onced cared about us,but they now hate us with passion!

Just some random thoughts that came to my mind….©Profarms’ Random Thoughts®

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