The Reason

The Reason

We are the reason,
For your temper,
For the abuse that never failed to make its mark upon our skin, ears, and hearts.
It was because Mom got sick,
Because Matthew was Autistic,
And because I never met the expectation of “perfect daughter”.
We felt the power of your drunken, twisted hatred,
We feel the dark tide of wanting to know if things could have been different,
I feel a consuming self-loathing,
Because I still want to be your friend,
Because I want you to love me the right way, if there is one.

Mom’s disease is the reason,
For your actions,
For why you cheated and slept around, ogled and lied,
It was because you didn’t know how to handle her disability,
Because you forgot how to love,
And because you lack something in your soul,
She felt insecurity building a wall around her heart,
She feels it melt away finally, after all those years of being brain washed,
I feel a tormented disbelief that you could do that to your own wife,
Because although I wasn’t your wife, I felt the blunt tip of her pain,
Because you failed her.

Matthew’s Autism is the reason,
For your cruelty,
For the reason why you hated him the most,
It was because you weren’t prepared,
Because you thought you knew everything,
And because he was much to wonderful, but you couldn’t see beyond the Autism,
He felt fear like a deer on the alert for being hunted,
He feels wary of you now, because he remembers,
I feel impassioned with rage when you make a comment in his direction,
Because although you do not love him, I do,
Because you use his innocence.

I am the reason,
For your unfathomable anger,
For you to feel like you have the right to destroy happiness and innocence,
It was because I was beautiful,
Because I didn’t know wrong from right,
And because in the long run, I’d make myself forget,
I felt self-destructive, unable to forgive you,
I feel sensitive to touch, because simple places are now marked with invisible sensors,
I feel sick inside my body, ill,
Because Daddy, you’re abusive,
Because we are the reason why.