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Alexander Cipher

Abstract Comedy

3.3  

Alexander Cipher

Abstract Comedy

Father

Father

2 mins
172


I often dream about killing my dad.

And what if I do?


Blood smeared on my hands and

church clothes

that grandma bought me because mom hates church.

There is also my mother screaming;

louder because he turned me into a murderer.


When the cops arrive;

Shit! I will spit on them, I hate cops.

Now I’ll have to tolerate half an hour in their car because traffic is shit.

Wish I could also kill traffic.


At the police station, they won’t give me any water because of my hair

has a strange color,

also because I just killed my dad, fuck.


My clothes are smelling of

brains and bigotry.


The officer who apprehended me

misgendered me.

Must be because I forgot to put my binder on.

But hey, Susan, if your father had treated you like mine did,

you’d be sitting beside me in that cell,

probably crying because you look like a pussy.


Can I change my name legally in prison?

My father is dead so I guess I can.


When I get my first phone call,

you will be it.

I’ll tell you how sorry I am and

dedicate you a song that the guard will be humming beside me.

You’ll cry.

And so will I.

You’ll yell at me.

But I’ll be too busy crying to speak.

I’ll be missing you but at least I’ll know

for sure that there is no God.


What God grants you with such a hateful dad?


I’d fall asleep crying

because I left you without saying goodbye.


Yet everything is a dream.

My mind slips into thoughts like these

from time-to-time.

Escaping reality

is healing sometimes.


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