Dillon Keene

Dillon Keene Poems

The Best Poem Of Dillon Keene

Are You There, Dad? It's Me, Your Son.

Are you there, Dad?
It’s me, your son.
It’s that scared little boy
that you left alone in that apartment on Muirs Chapel.
I’m that empty space
that opened up when you decided to leave your family.

The nights were cold.
How could I ever possibly forget?
How does one forget having to see their own mother
drowned in so much misery and despair that every single breath hurts?
Everything I had grown to know as truth and safety
all of a sudden escaped me.
I remember saying to mom,
'I just wish I could go to sleep and never wake up.'

I did wake up though.
I woke up in a panic every single night.
Memories of what it was like to have you within arm’s reach
could never escape my fragile 8 year old mind.
The dusty Polaroids that rested within the bedside drawer
were as close as I could get to your loving touch.
I would call you late at night, sobbing my eyes out.
It was just all too much.
Mom did everything she could to fill that void you left.
She showed me just how strong one person’s love could be.
She showed me what true love was.

As the years went by and I grew deeper into my shell,
I had no idea how to deal with everything that ran through me.
Medicine helped for a while,
but a small capsule once a day can’t give a broken face a permanent smile.

It’s because of you that I have grown into the person that stands here now,
It’s because of you that I appreciate the little things in life that I never knew.
And it’s because of you that I promised myself to never
let someone I love feel this level of emptiness,
to go through life feeling so scared and alone.

You didn't have a dad of your own.
I guess I understand.
You never learned to be a father.
But that’s what I needed, dad.
I needed you to be there by my side
and let me know that life wasn't really so bad.
To walk me through the obstacles
that everyone around me didn't have to face alone.

6 hours a month…
I see you 6 hours a month
why do I even bother?
The time we do spend together is all the same.
Small conversation interjected into awkward silence.

I am never gonna be fully okay..
A part of me will always be empty
A part of me will never know what having a father is like
I wish I could talk to you.
I mean really talk and communicate and know I’m not alone.
I still wish you were here.
I wish you were here right now.

Are you there, dad!
It’s me! Your son!
It’s that scared little boy!

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