There you are on the floor of the bathroom passed out.
I ran past the glistening blinking Christmas lights to the guest room where my mother was sleeping
And young Caroline, zombified, in her transient coming of age to leaving the nest bare bedroom.
You said you would take care of things
You said you would take care of me.
You said you would take care of my daughter, who caught your heart first.
And so you punched, slapped, kicked, and then screamed her into oblivion
With your tiny, meaningless words,
But she knocked you down and told you to go fuck yourself.
I should have left you on that bathroom floor when Gma and I tried to revive you,
Just like the time you planted yourself in the same place for 6 hours
Unable to move
Because you dank an entire 5th of scotch while I was at work
And then blamed me for not getting home soon enough
To prevent the inevitable nerve damage you inflicted on your arms
Holding that big man hulk of a frame up on the bathroom floor
While I worked my ass off for your health insurance
And then came home and nursed you.
What exactly did you take care of, Big Man?