And for my inheritance,
He left me a ba*tard b**h
Born to ramble below the bad sign—the worst sign—
That he signed and I'd sealed,
And maybe I'd feel fine if I didn't feel at all, but...
You can't unborn what is brought into this world.
At best, I am laid to rest,
But it won't be as if I never lived in this skin.
You see, every single cell has a story to tell
And they won't be silenced;
They scream, they moan, rejoice, they yell,
And while I'm wearing thin in the thick of it all
There's this part of me that keeps up the crawl.
The steady march past what was,
What is,
And towards what could be.
Because the best of me can't have already been,
I can't have been consumed by him.
In the most gross coup d'etat,
He took it all
Before I even knew what it was,
Or that I had it at all.
No.
Inside me I find the audacity to dare fight back,
To pull away from his press and protest:
"Motherf**er, that's just about enough of that."
In the face of the father
So unjust, unkind,
un-there, unaware,
Just un-,
I'm the daughter you bled
Then shed
Like a bandage
And then you vanished.
Well I say "Go, just go."
And then that steady march becomes a full sprint
Towards making sense of the sea-change swelling up inside of me.
It is a mad dash towards mending this flesh and loving this flesh complete.
And to think you were the thing that was doing me in
And dwindling me down to a woman undone,
Just think.