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You visualize what it would be like

To never feel the tension,

To never have to figure out someone else’s emotions,

To live freely.


 

You never escaped.


 

Now you have a daughter.

Her father’s angry.


 

You start to feel anger yourself,

For not choosing better,

For not having the courage to walk away,

For realizing your own flesh and blood will now feel every bit of an angry man.


 

But there’s no escaping.

They’re everywhere.


 

She will be stronger.

Better than me.


 

I see it already:

The fire.

The courage.


 

And every time she finds that match,

I’ll light it for her.


 

It’s the least I can do

For giving her an angry father.