Saturday, April 2, 2016

Owning up to "Chernobyl"

To my Dearest Father,
This is a letter of loathing
written in flowery language and vibrantly rosie ink
because I need you to understand something.

I need you to know that even though the way
the light hits your face makes you seem
like an angel I have seen your true colors -
I know how deeply ebony your soul really is painted.
I know how devastatingly crimson your heart is -
like a summer rose in its first bloom.

I need you to understand that I know I inherited
my pretty blue eyes from you but mine are innocent
despite my mistakes and yours are the same steely grey
as the lovely shade of prison you painted the house
on Audubon place. "Daddy," I have seen the way
the world looks upon you with such friendly pity
as they dote and doddle you to feel better, but I know
that you dove deep enough to drown the current
did not pull you under.

And now that I am nearing my final days
(96 to be exact) as your little girl I realize I was
never your little princess and you were never my
big, strong king preparing the kingdom for me.
So as a self-made queen, from one generation to another,
I am close enough to freedom to declare
my independence from you. that's right I said it,
in all honesty, I am deeply, completely head over heels
Independent of you.

You have lost every ounce of compassion
I could ever have from you. As my declaration
of independence, this is my farewell -
normally I would wish you well at the end
but this time I think its much more fitting
to send off with a big, giant fucking Go to hell!

Rest in Peace,
Madison Rene Kuhlmann

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