A Daughter's Wounds

They say that women were meant to endure And so i endured a thousand slicing words from my father Words, that prickled like needles being tugged into wooden boards Words that ruptured much more than my soul I still remember that fateful Sunday two years ago Papa, when you barged into my room That day what did I not endure? A wooden stick, several punches, a slap or maybe two You think the harm was only physical But papa, you broke much more than my bones You broke the trust I always suspected mother never had in you You broke the unwavering grin with which a little girl looked at you You sliced in two the heart that you were meant to soothe They say that two years is a long time But I'm stuck, immovable and paralyzed on my room's floor tonight while you're away making your millions I'm stuck with the memories that still rot the insides of my mind Were you stressed? Was it the employees at work? I've tried making a thousand reasons But none answer the question : why me? And so while I lay awake through sleepless nights Trying to make sense of it all by bleeding my tears into poetic rhymes I wonder yet again Papa, did you torture our relationship to the edge of death that it may never be the same? I never intended to hate you but look at this spiraling mess we've made.