Daughter

My nightmares are of him, the wrathful father
I used to fear I’d grow to be like him
A petty, ugly, bulging vein of anger
My nightmares were I’d be a wrathful daughter
but it is him, all him, and I am gentle
I grow more gentle and he grows more dim
My nightmares were of him, the wrathful father
I used to fear I’d grow to be like him.
2015