Daddy?

Daddy can't you see?
Can't you see that you are the pain!The pain that makes me go back.
It always makes me go back.
Back to the box.
The secret box that I hide in my closet.
The one with the knife and the lighter.
But it is not like you care.
You have never cared.
So don't lie.
The only thing that you say is keeping you together,
keeping you here,
is falling apart.
Slipping between your fingers.
Just like sand.
You can't stop it.
Your own daughter.
The one living with you,
has already started hating you.
Cutting and bleeding.
Shedding the blood.
Shedding the tears.
But of course you can't see.
You can't even see past your own option.
So don't lie.
We all know it.
We all breath it in.
And try to let it all out.
But some how it seems.
That the more I try to do that
the more it backfires on me.
I tried to stop it.
But it keeps coming out.
Like the blood from my wrist.
And the sand through your fingers.
It would stop.
It can't stop.