My Obsession With Victory

A girl with an angry man in the house will always look for an angry man in the house.

I will pull you in and push you to the edge where you will scream, I will cry. It feels like home now. I brought it with me, I am still amidst the fight, I am full every time you dare to provoke me.

I am still the daughter crying at his car window, begging him to stay. I will burn my throat in anger, claw at your back and beg through my tears. I will learn to love when you turn, I am addicted to the hatred you hold at my neck. Love is when you come back after leaving, love is when I convince you to stay.

Do not care for me, love me, comb my hair or tell me I will be okay. My father did that already. I dont need lies, I dont need a promise of tommorw and a warm bed, I dont seek the slow degeneration of our affixation which burns into resentment, never spoken, in between the years of an eternally bound life. I dont want your silent head next to me, dreaming about the girls you left behind. Scream at me, show me you hate me - now.

I know you hold back, when you hurt me, it could be worse. I want it all, I want it all out and I want to scream back at it. Let me fight to feel something, let me win the fight that my father taught me. Love is war, love is hatred, I want an angry man in the house because I am an angry daughter that needs to win.