sketching self portraits in chalk as it rains

took a series of selfies
but couldn’t recognize the person
staring back from the screen
did this dullard
with a forced half grin
a vacancy where
i suppose a soul should reside
reflected tepidly
in watery eyes
from another fit of sobbing
truly believe
he could ever be
any of the things he dreams?

my father was my age
when he died
and try as hard as i can
i cannot shake the fear
of the sins of the father
and as i didnt sleep last night
staring at the ceiling
failing to live
as i felt myself falling apart
broken broken broken
the feeling of the hug
i got before i left
already faded
and the next contact still
days and days away
unfamiliar with this form
taking pictures of
an unfamiliar face swollen
from crying into the darkness.

i know exactly
what happened to me
that made me into this
caricature of a person
recognize every flaw
have diagnosed every failing
yet there are uncontrollable
instances where i am just
that sad little boy
with abandonment issues
that doesn’t ever want to be
seen as a bother
no matter how deeply
i need to be seen
sitting alone in the silence
so attuned to his mental disorders
his flesh has become foreign.

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