This is Why....

I am not good enough
yes I know
how could I not?
You say it constantly.

I know that I am a failure
I know that I am just a deeper failure when I pick it up
the knife, I mean.
I'm so beneath you that you don't see the cuts.

You also don't hear me cry
Or smell the cigarette smoke
and if you do, you say nothing
You don't even ask why

But maybe you know why
maybe you don't want to ask
to confirm your knowledge.
To know like everyone else does

But I will let you in on the secret anyway
the reason why I do these things

Is you, My dear father.