My father has always been a bootleg promise.

Which is to say that whenever he told me that he loved me,

It was never real.

Every text that would light up my phone in the middle of math class.

Was always a text to make himself feel like he’s doing something,

Accomplishing something.

As a bootleg promise.

Which is to say that whenever we would get in heated arguments over messages,

Whenever I called him out of his name.

Whenever I called him by his name.

It made him drift away.

More and more.

I feel like even though he doesn’t maintain any contact with me,

I still hear him everywhere.

Telling another poor child another bootleg promise.