• Skip to main content
  • Skip to secondary menu
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Poetry Catalog

We honor great poets. We honor great poetry.

  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Submit Your Work
  • Writers
  • Advertising / Subscription

The Worst Part About Not Believing In God Is That There Is No One To Barter With, By: Cyn Jones

March 28, 2024 by Cyn Jones

The Worst Part About Not Believing In God Is That There Is No One To Barter With, By: Cyn Jones

when my dad’s cancer drugs
make him too weak
to lift his arms
he says to my mother,
‘don’t worry’
manages a smile
attempting to be
as luminous as his love

‘everyone dies of something,’
he says with a smirk
he’s the dreamscape who called kids who were not yet his
to ask for their mom’s hand
in marriage
calls me by my chosen name
spent what felt like every childhood Saturday painting my nails and making pancakes in the shape of my initials.
Had 2/3rds of his kids come out as queer and never once questioned us

Why
would a sentient god disappear
a man like that?

it took me half a life to know of toxic masculinity’s existence
because I was raised
by its antithesis.

who now sits five years into cancer
ad the final boss he isn’t going to beat.
sometimes cancer can’t unhappen
sometimes people do.
in my dad’s unhappening,
the number of nodules in his organs
match the number of years I have been alive.
I want more years
but I want them with him.
oncologist noted, “if nothing changes,
6-12 months.” six months ago.
My dad doesn’t believe that
and for once, I don’t argue back.

Keyma said “hope is what we give ourselves when suffering takes it all away”
And who am I to take the ribbon off a gift
that is not mine?

I once envisioned him walking me
down the aisle
gifting me, right?

but now my visions are of myself
fatherless
in a years time

I micro-dose grief
so as not to be completely asphyxed by it.

I get choked up
Every time I leave my parent’s home
I think maybe I should’ve stayed a few hours longer.
Carried the conversation even when it felt heavy
There was, at times, lots of silence
And won’t there be plenty
Plenty of time for that?

Here’s the thing.
I don’t have daddy issues
I have who the fuck am I going to be without my dad, issues

When I catch my reflection I am l
haunted by the likeness
in our faces
What happens when that semblance is the closest I can get to him?

Does anybody know the word for missing someone before they are even gone?

Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
  • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest

Related

Filed Under: Poems

Get Every Post In Your Inbox 😳

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
(This is not the newsletter.)

Primary Sidebar

Never Miss A Poem (Newsletter)

Be Social

  • X
  • Facebook

Top Posts & Pages

  • Ghosts, By: Emily Dickinson
    Ghosts, By: Emily Dickinson
  • Poetry Submission Deadlines November 2026
    Poetry Submission Deadlines November 2026
  • Ah, Sunflower, By: William Blake
    Ah, Sunflower, By: William Blake
  • Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 – IV - Is 'Death', When Evil Against Good Has Fought, By: William Wordsworth
    Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 – IV - Is 'Death', When Evil Against Good Has Fought, By: William Wordsworth
  • A Poison Tree Summary and Analysis
    A Poison Tree Summary and Analysis
  • Steamboats, Viaducts, And Railways, By: William Wordsworth
    Steamboats, Viaducts, And Railways, By: William Wordsworth
  • November, By: Emily Dickinson
    November, By: Emily Dickinson
  • I'm Nobody! Who Are You? Summary and Analysis
    I'm Nobody! Who Are You? Summary and Analysis
  • Poetry Submission Deadlines October 2026
    Poetry Submission Deadlines October 2026
  • And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time, By: William Blake
    And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time, By: William Blake

Advertising/Subscribing = Loving

Buy Me A Coffee

Footer

Made with ❤ in Lubbock, TX.

Public Domain Poetry

Poetry Catalog Sponsors

Haiku Examples

Search

Copyright © 2026 · Magazine Pro on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in