It’s a sunday today.

I forgot when was the last time I actually went to church.

Sundays, I like to spend at home.

Sundays, I like to spend lazing around.

Sundays, I like to spend with the people that matter.

But hush now, you’re shouting, always shouting at me.

It’s blaring, your voice resounding and beating against my eardrums.

Every word that comes out of your mouth is brash, uncalled for, lethal.

I guess that trait pretty much flows through our heritage, our blood.

Forgive me, for the vengeful thoughts I always have in my head while you’re berating me.

Forgive me, for turning my back and walking away.

Forgive me, for not bearing any consideration to your feelings.

Forgive me, daddy, for I love you.

I know I show it in the most warped way, but I guess that’s really just, me.