One Day

One day
I’ll make my father proud.
Not because I want to make
him regret
not being a part of my life,
or being besides me
when I needed a father most.
But because I want him
to be happy
that I’m alive
and his,
and know
that I love him.

One day
I’ll make my mother happy.
So happy that she can finally smile
when it’s cloudy outside
and forget that she wasn’t
perfect,
or that I still suffered
because of her bad choices.
Because, to me,
she will always be
the greatest mother
anyone could ask for,
and I will defend her
to the end
against anyone
who dares to even think
otherwise.

One day
I’ll make that man regret
for calling me nothing.
For screaming at me,
a child,
who was suppose to be his,
that I was stupid,
that I knew nothing
would become nothing
and would never be of help
to anyone.
Because I will not
be haunted
by his memory
any longer,
and I will no longer
try to convince him
to love me.

And one day
I’ll hold my head high,
knowing I made it somewhere.
Knowing I made it to something,
and that, against my fears,
I did it right!
So that, with myself
when I’m alone,
I can look back and say
I did good,
and at last feel at peace
doing something stupid
just because.

One day
I really will
become something.

And on that day,
I’ll eat sushi.
Lots and lots
of sushi.

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