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So I hung on, for I would do anything not to lose you, any part of you, loser's game, and everyday. I felt sicker. I knew that you don't like it when I'm sick how can you? You're my father. I tried not to bother you. But one day I said, I've heard about this homeopathic chemist; maybe they can help; will you come with me? We can take a walk. The only thing we liked doing with each other anymore was taking walks. We walked for hours by the poisoned canal. You said "yes". I added, "We have to leave by 5:00." I couldn't reach you because your phone was always busy so I left without you. When I returned to a phone message from you that said you had been busy with incoming calls till 6:30, I knew I shouldn't bother you anymore about my illness: I was agreeing to help even more in the murder of me; now I hated myself for what I was doing. I stayed away from you for 2 weeks and I couldn't bear being away from you. Without you, I was so alone. Loneliness formed by my refusal to look at myself and see a traitor to my self and act according. The heart hurts. Why had I done this? Because I didn't want to return to being with only my mother who was going to try to kill me for making you leave her - she loved you so much. My grandmother said: "our family has always been one-man women." When I phoned you, you were raving about your wife. She wanted a divorce from me so she would buy a flat. She owned half of the flat in which you live; you're scared that if she wants her half of the money you'll have to leave and you don't have enough money to buy another flat. She makes you a deal that if you get the necessary papers together fast enough, you won't have to move from the flat in which you're living for 2 years unless you want to. You know that when your mother dies, you're going to inherit a few hundred thousand pounds. You don't get the paper together so she tells you the deals' off. You're so pissed you know all women are bitches cunts you're a really nice guy and look what the cunt is doing to you after all she's the one who walked out on you.

At this point I interject, "Well you're not such a nice guy. Look at how you're treated me." I'm the bitch not your wife. I listen to you for a while and then for the first time outwardly become angry at you.

We haven't spoken for several weeks and I feel extremely ill. Spots in my kidneys, I think they're my kidneys, are burning; when it's time for me to sleep, my back muscles go into spasm. I want to sleep. I see your two arms around me and it no longer matters whether or not you love me. That night we were friends; pain kept me awake all night; I asked him drop by the apartment I had bought to be 2 blocks from him before he went to his friends because I thought I should ask him in person whether I can sleep in his bed, only that way I can get sleep. When daddy is my safety. He replied that his sheets were too dirty for me to sleep in his bed. I said that it wouldn't really be sleeping, just pretend sleeping , just pretending to be safe. He told me that when we had been lovers he had asked too much of me, for I wasn't strong and when I replied "so that's that" for I saw that my touch repulsed him and that is the end of love, he became incredibly angry I don't know at whom all I remember is his saying no one had ever made him feel as guilty as me. I was now in such physical pain that I didn't run after him when he walked out the door as I did before. Now I was in too much pain. I've never heard from him or about him again.

Mommy told daddy when he wanted to give her money for me, that he was being written out of her and so it turns out my life because he had left her.

My safety does not lie in the presence of my daddy. My safety lies in the beauty of all that is round me, in the sky that always is glowing, in the seas that shether visible or invisible lie. I am a child of the night; out of me day is beginning.

I am a child of the forests and the wilds; I am all that is American.

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