• “Dear Robert,”

    …I can’t believe I’m writing to you,
    no more specifically, about you.
    Actually I can.
    Sigh, I could go on and on about
    how you hurt me—my mom,
    my mind, my life.
    About how you ******** us over so
    intentionally, so courageously, yeah
    you the man, “DAD”
    no ******** you and your ego.
    I don’t need you, and my mother never did.
    But that’s besides the point.
    I write to tell you that I thought of you
    today. Differently surprisingly.
    As brief as it was, it was still there—for
    that instant.
    For that second I thought, “..forgive him..”
    …HA!
    I’ve finally found a way to not forget,
    not to dissapate, but to I don’t know, erode the pain away that
    you’ve caused me.
    I found someone who makes me feel so loved.
    So much more love than you could have
    ever never had shown me, your son.
    She’s finally steadied me.
    For so long I desired that unreasonable
    unsatisfaction of love, and now
    I found someone I don’t deserve.
    Robert, you’re a b***h.
    Always have been, always will be.
    Run from me as you did all those
    years ago.
    Still in fear, always in fear.
    Fear of I’ll kill you. Kill you for what
    you’ve done.
    What you did was lead me to
    Her. To the woman I love and actually
    gives a damn!
    I’ll forever hate you, harbor it, and know
    how to not live my life…
    Robert, I’ve got to say thank you in spite
    of it all, in spite of the nightmares,
    the unanswered questions, and
    the nights I asked myself just where are you?
    Because you’ve actually raised a good son.
    Now that I think about it, you did,
    Good-job, a pat on the back, hats off
    to You.
    I’ll ******** kill you, understand that.
    I finally have a chance to be happy, and I’m
    taking it. I’m moving you aside
    till next time we meet.
    Robert, I hate you. So very much do I loathe
    your existance and your attachment to me,
    Robert I hate to call you my “Father” if anything.
    You’re dead to me.
    For so long I’ve wanted answers from your mouth,
    to know why you never wanted me, and when you told
    me I was too young to understand.
    To understand that you were a fully-fledged b***h.
    A man doesn’t desert his child, Robert!
    You don’t just ******** up and leave and s**t!
    What the ******** is your problem huh?!
    What in ******** hell gave you the idea, the simple
    notion in that ********, sick, twisted head of yours that you
    don’t have to finish something so vital that you’ve
    started?!
    I’m not a coat you hang up,
    I have feelings, needs, wants, I want you
    DEAD.
    I want you to beg me to stop beating your head
    in with my fists. I want to hear
    my knuckles pound into your flesh and I want
    to see your blood—my blood, mix
    with the angered, hot tears as I cry over
    the years I’ve been through…
    For so long I’ve had so much to say, and I still
    to this day can’t say not one word.
    I hate what you do to me—what you’ve done to me.
    Robert, I wish—I never wished for the perfect
    family, I don’t want it, I don’t need it.
    I can’t believe I’m so happy right now.
    I write this to spite you.
    Robert, I’m happy. I’m in love.
    And to you my father I extend my invitation
    to you. I want you to meet her,
    she wants to see the man that brought me
    to here she says,
    before I kill him, there—dead.
    So thank you, Father, for all the things, you failed to do.
    Raise me, nurture me, care for me,
    Love me..
    Thank you for helping me find the woman
    of my dreams, and for killing my heart
    till it was almos nothing.
    I really hope to see you soon, maybe at the
    wedding…
    Where you’ll hear my vows to her, and your
    eulogy for you..
    --No more your Son,
    Malcolm Williams
    Noel Xavier Williams