Not today

I’m in a box, I’m underground  
Can’t breathe or move, to fears I’m bound  
The smoke is dark, my lungs are tight  
Too scared to scream, too weak to fight  

My childhood hope, a sunken dream  
A sick and withering wreck  
My tears, my pain, an anchor  
Wrapped tight around my neck  

“Dad, can you hear me?” Silence  
Okay, I’ll try again  
I pause, I know. He’s hiding  
I close my eyes and count to ten  

“Dad,” why can’t you hear me?  
Why don’t you answer back?  
Is it me? I’ll change. I’ll try.  
But why? Please just tell me that.  

The last call hurts the most, I think  
Have I done something wrong?  
I feel someone there, but it’s not him  
The dad I know is gone  

The mask he wears conceals his soul  
A shadow self, confined  
Perhaps, his mask reveals his truest form  
And all this time he lied  

I hold his hand, but he lets go  
He drifts right before my eyes  
Doesn’t he like me anymore? It’s not this.  
He just loves his new disguise  

His face has changed,  
His voice reframed  
I often ask God how  
“That’s how addiction works, my child”  
He can’t love you just for now  

I wonder how he does this  
He doesn’t seem that lost  
He seems to have found himself, in fact  
My sister and I, the cost  

I wake up, and it’s Christmas Day  
The first time I’ve held his hand since May  
Unhappy? No. He seems okay  
Thank God, he loves me, at least today  

Dad, can you hear me?  
Silence.  
He never came to stay  
I wonder if what works on him  
Will help fix my pain today?  

And so it goes  
I bury my woes  
No tears at first, I smile  
Everyone seems to like this me  
Pain suppressed, for a while  

“Fran, can you hear me?” Silence  
My mum screams with all her might  
It’s me that now can’t say a word  
I’ve become that shadow in the night  

I’ve numbed my pain, completely  
For loss, I’m well prepared  
My fears live inside a bottle now  
No longer weak, no longer scared  

“Fran, you’ve got a problem”  
Stop, I think. They’ll blow it  
I can’t go back to that child I was  
But then before I know it  

I’m in a box, I’m underground  
Can’t breathe or move, to fears I’m bound  
The smoke is dark, my lungs are tight  
Too scared to scream, too weak to fight  

Hello, I say but NO ONE comes  
Not dad, not mum, just me  
I know exactly where I am  
My eyes are free to see  

Immersed in soil and thick brown mud  
I’m in an early grave  
I drowned my pain, and it buried me  
I became the dad I couldn’t save  

And so, I chose to change this year  
I turned five months sober in May  
So, thanks, but no, I won’t have “just one”  
Not tomorrow, NOT TODAY.

Francesca

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