He is exposed nails and the smell of pine.

My dad is upset you spoke of him at all.

He wants to be remembered as hardwork.

I have about as many memories of my dad speaking too loudly, happily, as I do angry.

My dad taught me money is not love by trading in and calling them the same thing.

My dad is raw sodium straight to the veins.

He will spike your blood pressure and ask you, viciously, why you could be crying.

My dad is a hammer who doesn’t understand that he made everyone a nail.

Recently he tried flipping to pry me back up, and said how dare I “made him look bad” like my retelling him smashing me down nearly my entire lifetime was something I asked for.

My dad owes me another apology. I do not owe him forgiveness, a mask, or to process his emotions for him. And I have chosen peace.

I will not visit what causes me harm anymore.