Broken down, like cardboard boxes.

You break me down, it's poison; toxic.

No matter what I do I can't get over

you just give me the cold shoulder.

It's freezing. I'm Arctic cold.

You broke my heart of gold.

Shattered it like shards of glass,

had me crawling through crab grass.

The pieces; 

my pieces 

are all scattered.

You paint me with the same brush,

as the rest, 

like I don't matter.

I'm slipping away now,

like a cartoon banana peel.

Your words cut me with their logic,

though you're yet to ask me how I feel.

Granite countertops, 

and ceramic tiles,

fill our household, 

devoid of smiles.

They laughed and said 

I'm from a broken home, 

little did they know, I am all alone.

A father? I've only known daddies.

The ignorance hurts me quite badly.

You reached out, a single arm,

like it was a token of your chiseled charm.

This paint is dangerous, 

the asbestos in these walls cause me harm.

Daddy issues now, 

at nearly thirty,

make me feel defiled; dirty.

If I always had you, I

 would not rebel,

as though I have no clue.

Broken inside, bent exterior,

these gray walls can't hide my pain. 

Yet, you ebb and flow into my life

like the tide, after heavy rain.

I miss you, dad-you broke me down,

left me so confused.

I had no idea how I would

ever feel like anything but a fool.

I needed you; l

ike the flowers need the sun,

but you shut me out, 

and broke me down

like I was not your son. 

So it's over now, there will be no refrain;

don't come crawling back again.

I can walk away, without a word,

I refuse to be your flightless bird.