Vital Refraction


United States

My dad smokes.

For years, I would get so frustrated at his immutable addiction.

My yells, piercing daggers that haphazardly

flick into the cramped space.

Each shard of my heart splinters under the tension

while still managing to crack into tinier and tinier pieces.

And soon, nothing, except the echoed

shadows of my shattered pain.

My embarrassment also went to such an extent

that he was my only secret I kept from my friends.

My anger ran so deep in my veins that no matter how many

furious waves would wallop in my body, they would never be close

to purifying the rage out of my diseased blood.

But I never realized

that he still is my dad no matter what he does

that I love him more than anything

that I would give up world peace just to hear his booming laughter

that even broken glass can refract light and will turn plain surfaces into rainbow.

I never realized until poetry allowed me to reflect on

the fractured world around me. 

This poem is about: 
My family


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