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Writer's pictureRK Dhadwal

knowing this, will I reach for you the way you want me to?

I sit uncomfortable near the edge of the sapphire waves.


The golden sun strikes down shimmering on the surface waves, illuminating the sand. People jostle back and forth, oblivious to my inner turmoil whirling within like an eddy out of control.


My family is here and I am glad. But there is a thorn in my side. The things they don't tell you or teach you about in school- how to navigate the comings and goings of absent, emotionally abusive parental figures. He spoke to me last many nights ago. This isn't the first time and it won't be the last. He wields this weapon as if it's an extra limb.


Being made invisible is against our human nature. We need to be seen to survive. It's encoded in us. So the worst weapon you can use is to strip someone of their existence.


And then we spend the rest of our lives wondering why we feel so empty.


We don't ask to be manifested into existence. He has perfected his craft and I have perfected my response. I am a passing light to him. I only exist when I live his life.


I have learned to nurture my own light within, to not let him take away what I've been given.

But the soul is always longing to fill that gap, the space our fathers leave behind when they leave us behind.

So we continue to roam the night until daylight sends us home, clutching these droplets of self-love in our palms.


So I tell myself now,


that we do not need to deal with the childish actions of insecure men.

We snip off dead stems, pull out thorns and throw them in the ocean.




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