On by birth certificate there is a name under the title of father this guy signed for me on arrival,
the point of a sentence dated to remind the contract of the entry witnessed here on Earth,
a sort of strange theme on paper that registers the fact that life has been subjected,
file it with the Cards to remember that you never I.D.'d the takers but are identified as the gift.
At 18 I flew to an Island to revisit an earlier time in my youth possibly find a small connection,
I actually did not recognize the face on first sight it was the rate of speed that drew my attention,
walking running in the opposite direction at the Airport the tempo had been a distraction to the view.
The very words set the pace for greater disturbs which came at regular intervoles of shocking,
upon hello an uncomfortable engagement that twisted me in the air of my gut in a fight to breathe,
as the rush continued to the baggage the temper of the speech was drastically beating eyes twitching,
hand ringing and a foot dance that required constantly a nerve that was hard wired to vagrancy.
The drive in the car produced vomit in my Mind oxygen sucked from my marrow the skull caved,
I was called repeatedly the wrong name while purchasing a Lay to wreath my Nape,
the bile that I was choking on by swallowing as to not offend myself to this indignity in this bulletin,
the laughter that followed each verbal expression of the incorrect name sickened the excuse.
This was the introduction of a visit to a Prime that had signed for my original arrival by acknowledgment,
for the Cert. had my Proper Name spelled in complete for approval basis of the signatures,
to add insult to confusion the hurt had yet to drive the knife further in the abdomen of body,
as people say that things get better with time I believe that subjects just intensify when unsettled.
He was married to a woman that would not allow any one on one time for anything to be resolve,
at this point in my life I just wanted to have that connection of the signature role by being my best,
as the clock wound to different scenes it became a cliff jump backwards to survive the brain,
in weird hugging of not me just in front a few feet away the strange behavior smashed my think.
"This is my little girl and she didn't get a Daddy he died when she was very young, but I'm her daddy now."
"Her real daddy would have loved her but not like me 'cause I'm a better Daddy."
Looking at me saying these things so loudly and absolutely anywhere at every given turn prompted,
like a pre-recording to sync in my cells an understanding to witness abandonment in attachments,
still mixing in my thoughts on occasion I shake as if the core of me has plates like the Earth in a quake,
the eruption just has not caused the damage to the surroundings of the theme in this perversity named Life.
