I’m one in a million, yes,
But if this pain and suffering is the price tag for this life,
Then perhaps the steak I swallowed is too big for my minuscule throat.
Do I ever flood your thoughts? I wonder
You’ve shown no signs I ever do,
No calls or visits,
That’s the reality you choose for us both.
Do you even joke about me amongst your friends?
Tell them of how you were never there and pride yourself
With empty memories that don’t exist?
Or you fear they might fill the gaps in between
And see your worthlessness?
Do I even count as your own
Or am I just an error you hope to evade all your life?
Does it bother you sometimes,
That your son lives a life of a bastard,
While you drown your sorrows and shame in alcohol?
Do you feel filthy rich now?
With your self-centeredness and greed?
I hope it makes you sleep better every night
When you justify your wrongs as right.