A Young Boy’s Heart

Intuitively, I knew his words,
before my father spoke.

Your mother's left us, he whispers.

Left you, I dared to scream aloud.
My young boy's heart
aching, silently breaking.

You had disappeared,
without a trace.
It was not an easy trick,
but one well executed.


Knowing this was your pathway
from his alcoholic pain,
offered me no solace.

Slowly but surely,
I became the caretaker,
watching women and whiskey come and go,
leaving life shabby and chaotic.

Regarding the world with an
an expectation of perfection,
I became judge and jury
for myself and others.

Always longing - but fearful of connecting,
I stayed safe on life's sidelines.

Dissociate or deny –
Never acknowledge any pain,
Duck and cover from the shame –
That became my coping game.

Over and over, must I
always pay this price
for losing you?