Forcing My Hand (poem)


Blurry and dazed, I watch from the floor


The backs of your shoes as you walk out the door


You stop and you turn as if wanting some more


I raise my hand up in front of my eye


Trails of blood streaming off, trying not to cry


Wondering if this is the day I shall die


Why do you care? Why do you even bother? Didn't care before. Care about being a father.


I lunged for the door, my fist raised in the air.


Your reaction was stoic, you didn't seem to care.


Spinning and turning, painful flashes of light


It wasn't my fault, you started this fight


Staggering through the door you came at my brother


I jumped in between amidst screams from our mother


On my big brother's weakness was where your plain laid


But I stand in between, deceivingly unafraid


He had done nothing to deserve your fury and rage


Of course, neither had I, not at that age


The taste of metal and salt heavy on my tongue


A broken rib pressing into my lung


But still I continue, maintaining the fight


For here I stand between who's wrong . . . . . . and what's right


Now broken and bleeding we lie in the yard


My face, our relationship lie forever scarred


Two decades have past since that faithful night


Never forgetting my brother's eyes filled with fright


Remembering always that you tore us apart


Thankful only that you showed me . . . . the depth of my heart

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