the new man

it felt like he was in her pocket. something insignificant but with her at all times. i felt as though he resided in more than just her phone in her mind in her time my father was a bad man and maybe i’m just scared that now every man is a bad man he lives in her pocket soon maybe in our home my home my mum left a bad man a bad dad maybe for an equally as bad man she tried stripping the wallpaper and scrubbing the floor as if it would remove the mark of my father i feel like the new man is trying to hammer up family photos we have yet to take i feel like the new man is trying to slip exactly into my dads old space just like he slipped perfectly into her pocket he can hammer up pictures he can live in her heart but there’s drywall in my home and behind the drywall is all of our secrets