Today is your birthday – a day I should cherish. A day that subsequently gave me life. It’s been quite some time since words were shared. It’s been even longer since I’ve cared. And yet, here I am, writing to you…wanting nothing more than to say fuck you.
For not knowing how to love your daughters. For creating for soldiers of hate instead of faces of love. For abusing the only man that ever loved us without defiling our bodies, minds, souls. For loving money and dick more than your blood. For teaching us to hate ourselves, our skin, our minds, our voices. For creating a path of destruction.
I could hate you but I don’t.
I will never understand how this all came to be….how you gave up without ever trying…how you infected us with your worst features and took pride in damaging us. Setting us free into the world like a flock of demonic doves – deceivingly beautiful to taint good things.
But I will not fly for you. I will not spread your tyranny. I will not infect my kin as you did with free will and conviction.
I’m blowing out the candles, all 58 of them. I’m blowing out the flames that have seared my self-esteem for 28 years. I’m blowing out the candles and spending my time loving my son so he never knows doubt in me…never knows your plague.
Happy birthday to you. May your last candle burn out soon enough so the world can be free.