New Piece...Keep Revising

Baseball was more than sport
It spelled freedom in capital letters
And his travel to the U.S. was visible from left field in Boca Chica, DR
Literally not having a pot to piss in
Papi could play and he had a dream
Taking his Caribbean tan and patched gloved hands, he played baseball
Never forgetting where he came from
Papi cultivated his agricultural roots as dark as sugars canes
Still leaving a sweet tooth for those growing pains
Stinging like the fresh burn from a 3rd degree heartbreak
Family was never more than a sport
It spelled abandonment in capital letters
And his daughter’s smile was visible from left field of his living room
Literally not having a heart to love
His calling to be a man was an ignored alarm clock, He loved that snooze button
Had a barbaric view of what it is to be man, because it doesn’t stop at bringing home the bacon
And could never say he was proud, his primitive upbringing wouldn’t understand
So I eventually just stopped telling him that I loved him everyday
That my grades were good and I had a track meet Saturday
He was slowly dying
Passion was the first to go
Losing that campfire inside that burned like the acid of a bulimic’s stomach, purged
He was pathetic,
Then he lost his sight, no goals ahead the savage in him made him blind
My body became brail,
He was my excuse for teenage heartbreak because the guy I liked took the face of his
He turned my heart into a glacier and I just wanted to melt his
But I will not allow you to be the reason I don’t believe in love, family, or life
Because despite what my father was the only thing I see of him in me
Is my amazing ability to get a good tan this summer and oh yea thanks for the curly hair too!