Father, hear me clearly

Father, hear me clearly.

There is a shadow in our home —

a man who thinks that power is wisdom

and shouting is truth.

He builds himself by breaking others,

he calls it order,

but he knows nothing

of human boundaries,

nothing of respect.

He speaks to my mother

as if her spirit were clay in his hands,

shaping her by fear,

teaching her lessons no father should teach,

demanding obedience

where kindness should stand.

But the rules he writes

are not laws of love —

they are chains.

And I will not wear chains.

Know this:

it is not my mother’s voice that storms,

it is the voice that built itself above her

and forgot to listen.

What we face is not discipline,

but domination.

Not guidance,

but control.

And I, Father,

stand firm.

My boundaries are not up for negotiation,

my soul is not a battlefield.

I will not bow to a man

who has never learned

how to be one.