My old flame was better than my blood father.
At least, he respected his parents
And looked out for his family.
He was more available,
Just not enough for us to work.
At 16 when I was old
Enough to make my own decision,
I decided that my mum
Was right and he was my father but
Was never my dad.
I believed that he
Broke my mums patience.
I stopped seeing him regularly.
After seeing what a
Broken shell of a man my father was,
They still tried to press me to.
I don't understand them?
I was a target, young and female.
They claimed to worry about me.
To want to protect me.
They won't allow
Me to go to a concert with a friend
Yet pressurise me
To serve my country
Like I had no other options.
I did, before rehab. I could
Have went to art college.
I could have taught martial arts.
I could have been a manager.
I could have went back to studying.
My fathers own comrades
Broke his leg on purpose.
What if I turned someone down?
It's about control and power.