Conception of Hate

It's really late, I want you to stay. I want your warmth and love to not go away.

But you're not you, you changed your view, you wanted everyone else and we knew

After everything we've been through, having a daughter that turned two, I hate that she loves you.

You're here but you're gone, she'll constantly question what she did wrong, she'll even try and put your story in a song.

I took the bait, our clothes are on the floor, we took no time to wait. When February comes a baby is born and made with hate.

A birthday party, she turned eight, her dad walks in and hesitates. He saw my guy, turned his back and got shy. Dropped my girl's gifts off and didn't say goodbye.

From that day on apart of her died, the piece of her heart that can't be revived.

Everything's clarified, my vision is clear, my dad doesn't want me near. It's allowed me to swerve when I steer. No direction, face first with deception. The way I love him feels like an obsession, it eats away at my core like an infection.

I will always love my dad, even if every memory I have with him is bad, the truth is, it'll always make me sad.

I'll love him from a distance but hate him for my exsistance, I only got myself to push and my persistence.