I remember the day you left us like it happened yesterday.
You told me you couldn't be with us anymore. That you had to leave, that you weren't happy anymore. As you left you promised me that you would see me in a few weeks. A few weeks turned into 4 years, and you are still trying to make up for that time that was lost.
You used to be a good dad. You used to take me out on adventures every Saturday morning. I remember sitting in your old truck listening to Pink Floyd on our way to Yosemite, always remembering to stop by that little cafe to buy me blueberry pancakes.
You were the first man to break my heart, stand me up, and leave me. You used to not lash out at us in anger.
You used to have gentle hands but now they are balled up fists sewn tight with anger, and just like your words, they hurt. You aren't a father anymore, just a stranger who sleeps on our couch in the living room after stumbling in drunk at 3 AM.

I could sing a song
Would they listen?

I realized something today
After months of figuring
Who am I?
I am me.

And who is me?
Someone to warm your cold hand
Someone to protect your battling soul
Someone to bandage your ****** heart
Someone to trust you when you can't
Someone to sing you asleep
I'll tell you a story of a girl I knew
Who couldn't fix herself quite right

There was Old Man in a pew,
Whose waistcoat was spotted with blue;
But he tore it in pieces
To give to his nieces,
That cheerful Old Man in a pew.

I feared that I would want him.
I feared that I would need him.
I feared that I would love him.
And I do.

But I am not afraid anymore.

-ARI

I* leapt and dove into the depths of indigo
Night spilled carelessly onto my sky
Darkness smothered with tides of indigo
I almost drowned and whimpered a cry
Grappled with the vagueness of indigo
Out of the *blue, I'd emerge with a heavy sigh

This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but
Delicate bones and pearly whites
My essence captured through awkward captions and
My worth measured by likes and heart bytes
A photograph carefully composed
Of a girl with her true thoughts [boxed up tight]

This is to the boys who see me as nothing but
Geometric shapes
Circles and curves and parabolas
**** and *** and legs and waist
And an irrelevant concave where my brain should be
My “radical ideas” make me a butterface

This is to the academy, that sees me as nothing but
3.97 and a good SAT score
A scholar of great potential
That will donate millions or more
As an honored alumni
Of the greatest institution in the world

This is to society, that sees me as nothing but
A golden gal who always colored inside the lines
Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes, no fire in my soles

“She’s never insubordinate, ‘cause she’s never been inclined”
Determined but docile
Go ahead and assume I’m not the rebellious kind

This is to myself, because I see that
My mind is a kaleidoscope of technicolor dreams
Ideas colliding like specks in sunbeams  
And I’ll call myself a feminist or riot grrl if I **** well please
You are not my dictator or an office label machine
It’s 2015; I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be.