When we were younger-
especially when we were particularly heinous-
you would tell us
that if it came down to it
you would choose our mother
over us
every
time.
Is it any wonder why
I can't
trust you?
What kind of a man says
he would leave his daughters in a heartbeat
if it meant supporting their spouse?
What man settles for one over the other
when both are his to protect?
None of us asked to be begotten.
None of us asked to be abandoned.
You were there
but you were there for her.
Now I look to other men
for the security I should have been able to find in your arms.
Those hands should have been used for more than discipline;
they should have been extended time after time,
mistake after mistake,
loaning us your strength
instead of administering it.
I'm too tired to argue.
I just need you to know
why I feel this ocean between us
even when we're closer than ever
to dry land.
No meaningful relationship is one-dimensional. This was just a reflection on one of the harder parts of growing up with my dad.