I've been wrestling with myself.
Should I write this?
Should I expose you?
Would it inspire or discourage?
Is it right or wrong?
I intend to be a writer who writes what she feels, not what is "acceptable" or "appropriate".
This one's for you, Tony.
Your dramatics don't move me any longer.
Your "desolation" doesn't make your little girl sad.
Your lies regarding my mother don't hold truth or weight in my heart.
Your addictions are not my problem or responsibility.
The first time you put the gun in your mouth scared me, now it's a joke.
Quit crying wolf, coward.
Little girls need acceptance, you denied me.
Little girls need shelter, you did not provide.
Little girls need love, you were clueless.
Little girls need stability, you were quick sand.
Little girls need consistency, you were in and out.
Little girls need truth, you're a fucking liar.
You're only out for number one.
What can YOU squeeze out of this life?
What can YOU get for YOU?
Who can YOU benefit from?
Who can YOU use next?
This isn't about forgiveness Tony.
Don't throw a single verse at me.
I'll puke if you quote another scripture.
I know what the book says, damn it.
You stripped me of all affirmation.
You have no idea what that did to me.
At twenty four, I am learning to love myself.
I wish it was an easier lesson.
Your middle girl never quite did it for you, huh?
I've always been Jacque's.
I will never let you get to Lane, Auden or Koen.
I'll protect them.
You won't haunt my future.
I might get married and have a baby or two.
My husband will stay.
Your spell stops with me.
Joe Weido said you were "like the wind".
He couldn't have been more precise.
Blow in, blow out, you selfish son of a bitch.