Bad Omen

What if his curse comes true?
“Someday you will repent for what you have done to me.”

I’m the bad omen,
The broken child,
The black sheep walking deeper into my father’s shadow.

I’m too afraid of what the light might feel like on my skin.
“God is watching what you do to me.”

If I am the cause of his pain,
Then why am I the one suffering?

The sound of his voice—it haunts me.
It’s like a ghost that won’t get off my shoulders.
Nobody can see it,
But I sure as hell can feel it.

It was there as I ran down the halls as a child,
Slamming and pushing on the door with my back so he couldn’t get in.

His voice cuts deep into my skin,
Summoning a portal to the worst parts of me.

With all of this anger inside of me, I could break everything--
Yelling and hysterically crying in a fit of momentary madness.

If I’m the loudest in the room,
Maybe I could drown him out--
But that’s not how it works.

Maybe I am doomed to his incantations
As they manifest my misfortune to life.

I’d like to think that someday I’ll get out on the other side,
A day where I don’t have to hold everything in.
​
Damned if I do.
Damned if I don’t.

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