He moved like a feral cat
skittish, entire body shaking
“Don’t look at me”, he said
but when I looked, what I saw wasn’t my father
it wasn’t him with a broken red nose
it wasn’t him with a swollen lip, missing front teeth
it wasn’t him with blood-soaked hair and wides eyes
that never stopped quivering
“Are you real?”, he grabbed my arm
squeezed it too tight
“I took too much acid,”
he said
but I found an empty box
of cough medicine in the trash
eight more boxes in the cabinet
he wanted to find his tooth
he fell to the floor and crawled
around the small apartment
he pounded his fists on the carpet
laughed at the mirror
“Does it hurt?” I asked
I cleaned the blood of him
with water, soaked towels
washed his head in the tub
he asked me questions
not understanding my answers
he called me stupid
said he was disappointed in me
I was getting fat
he sat on the couch
watching a film under some blankets
his dead eyes never left the screen,
“Please don’t leave me,” he said
he mumbled something about wanting forgiveness
I closed the door on him