Speak him back into existence

Can’t you see?

We have not said a proper goodbye

And I feel the guilt of not telling him all about me

Knowing that his shoulders could handle my truth



There is so much he wouldn’t have understood

But I know, underneath it all, he loves me fiercely

And would want the wheels of my life to barrow



Pity my uncomfortable silence

Speak him back into existence,

So I can untangle every line of metaphor,

Break my silence into a confetti of truth,

And watch them layer into a second skin,

Before the heavens open their doors for him



Can’t you see?

These mornings I make breakfast out of prayers

Wearing his smiles like a second skin

To sit in the shades of every memory

Bringing my childhood back into fruition



I have realised that pain too is a painter

And I haven’t met her ends yet

But at least I know,

I am the son of my father

And he might not know me now

But he loves me fiercely.