The Hate Inside of Me (a poem)

I only wanted love from you, but loving you was pain –

the laughter one day, followed by grief and terror

from whatever state you happened to be in.

I ask myself, “Who were you?”

You discarded me like an object and

closed off that side of yourself

that seemed to contain the Devil.

What does it mean to be your son?

The Devil I spoke of – a dark energy,

the shadow self that sometimes hates

the world and loathes the person I am.

People tell me I’m a good man, that

I have a gentle heart – but I don’t feel it most days.

I feel ashamed, dirty, pathetic.

I’ve tried to wash myself clean –

I want purity, enlightenment.

I want to forgive you, but maybe

forgiveness is never complete.

A part of me still hates you and is glad

you’re dead – I no longer must tolerate

your abuse, and you can no longer hurt

people and bring pain into the world.

I put on a solemn smile at your funeral,

an unbearable afternoon where people

told us you were a good man, and the many

loose women from your life shared pictures of

you with my mother, and your addict friends

showed up in sweatpants.

But you were not a good man, and God will

forgive me for saying that. How can I hate you

and still love myself? How can I hate that

which created me?

Published by Nick