I remember asking my father to beat me as a child when I realized I had it too good,
he didn’t because he had enough of his own. Like Bukowski he too learned the
meaning of undeserved pain in his early years.
I thought I was being humble asking for a beating so I could give back some of my underserved fortune.
Years later, I still feel underserving, and ever since I have thrown out every piece of good fortune thrown my way.
I get nervous and sad when people try to help me, I feel like I have to pay them back twofold with my billfold or my toil, so I foil.
Even now my letters go unanswered,
but
The one good thing I did was try to clean and sober him up before she saw him; I, self-appointed keeper of the peace.
And now because she wants to keep things in the past, Scarface “I can’t talk to my mother, so I talk to my diary.”