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drink drink drink dad
Contributed by
hannah_heaven
on
Sunday, 20th August 2006 @ 02:36:00 AM in AEST
Topic:
drugabuse
|
in a world of normal
is urinating yourself normal?
vomiting infront of a six year normal
what would you call normal?
not my dad...
he once was a good man
my daddy who built things
fixed things
loved things
but like things
they seem to break
things seem to go wrong
my daddy did go wrong
every night after school
from work he'd come
stinking of whisky
he'd sit slobbed on the couch
my mum, she left for work
i was six at the time
because i couldnt understand
why my dad was drunk
when he hit the floor unconcious
i slept next to him
somehow felt it was my fault
but this occurance
happened every night
the older i got
the more shocked i become
on how much he could drink
four bottles of whisky to start his day
six to eight cans of extra strong beer
and some more whisky
plus the cocaine addiction he'd recently picked up
i become so sad inside
when my mum and dad argued id sit
and listen to him shouting
'YOU ***** SLAG!'
my mum would be crying
i knew he'd fumble downstairs
'DAD PLEASE STOP!'
he was pressing a knife to his veins
'AND YOU, YOU LITTLE ***** *****'
i watched as he popped open his vein
i found out it was his artery when the blood hit the ceiling
the floor was flowing with blood
i call the ambulence
while my mum and dad have gone
i do the normal
i get the mop bucket from the kitchen
fill it up
and start cleaning up his blood
the same i did a fortnight ago,
when he punched a mirror and hit his vein in his hand
i picked the pieces of glass ever so carefully
comparing my life to the shards
a complete mess
i was amune to anything around me
i didnt care about anyone or anything
in that sense , i was strong, real strong
stronger than any role model i had
my mum to forgiving to move on
my dad to addicted to stop killing himself
it was an ever ending event that was my life
school became by get away
i didnt bother with anyone and i wanted the same in return
years went by
and after affairs
and soiled nickers
in the loft
my mum finally awoke to the nightmare
she had a breakdown obviously
i had to sit through a week of her crying non-stop
but if it meant getting rid of my dad.. then God it was worth it
i hated every fibre of his existance
i hated him because i hated me
i hated drink
yet from fourteen i drank so much
i ended up in hospital
but was i becoming my dad?
after he moved to canada
i visited
iam in canada now
visiting
but as i write this
he's in bed filled with vodka
like a lullaby soothing him to sleep
i stay awake
listening to his heaving chest
he rattles..
part of me wishes he wasnt breathing
but afterall he is my dad
but the dad i knew
is dead
somewhere while he dreams
he's still there
sometimes he appears
to make me toast
to kiss me goodnight
to tell me he loves me
but i know .. ive always known
.. the drunk is still there
waiting to reappear
so..
drink drink drink dad
drink yourself to death ............
Copyright ©
hannah_heaven
... [
2006-08-20 02:36:00]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: drink drink drink dad
(User Rating: 1 )
by PHISHBATES on
Sunday, 20th August 2006 @ 09:19:16 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| We all have our own monsters to deal with. Hope writing quiets yours like perhaps liquor may work for others. Thanks for sharing. |
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