Vodka Kisses

The bittersweet taste of a kiss will never evade my mind. Empty affection has filled my heart I don’t know what is real and what is fake. Someone like my father will make you question everything. Everything you feel, everything you want, don’t want. Every kiss he gave satisfied me the same way a shot of vodka would. The warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, the happiness and feeling of being a bird over the deepest parts of the Grand Canyon, but the feeling eludes from my mind as I become sober and realize that the feeling is as fleeting as my dad’s happiness that quickly turns to anger in a heartbeat, I am used to it. Yet I hold on to the good so it can erase the bad. I crave his kisses more and more even though I know my eagle wings will turn into 50 pound weights as I plummet to the depths of the earth. You’d think I’d know better. I’ve gotten used to knowing what a kiss shouldn’t feel like that I don’t know what it should. That’s why I’m scared that I will not be good enough for you. When you kiss me, I know I’m not supposed to feel fear or disappointment, but that is what I am accustomed to. I am accustomed to such negative feelings I have forgotten what positive feelings are like. All I remember are the 50 pound weights. So when I do not look like I love you when you kiss me, know that I’m trying. The bittersweet taste of vodka kisses are still present, know that I’m trying to get rid of it. Know that I will soon be victorious, but right now I’m sorry. I’m sorry I cannot love you the way you love me, but I’m trying. The bittersweet sting of vodka kisses will soon fade and be replaced with your kisses that are sweet as honey. Until then, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a work in progress, and I’m sorry my kisses are not as good as yours. They probably never will be because your love for me is unfathomable, but I’ll try. Because I don’t want to lose you like I lost my father. I can’t. I'm sorry.