I wish that I could live in my own house
Where my brother's and sisters live
Where my birth giver and male parental unit call home

A few things stand in my way
The emotional disconnection gives a slight separation
The abusive love and controlling tongues play a part
The creepy old man who touches me in ways no one should

That.

Definitely is a big part.
I mean when you got your Father card did you skim over the fine print where is says protection? Did you forget your glasses so you couldn't see that it said, "must go to a loving home"?
I mean these are all technicalities.

But me?
I'm not. I'm your daughter.
It sounds weird the way it rolls off of my tongue. The metallic after taste, like I've just been slapped. Daughter. Something doesn't seem right.

I mean why have a home where you feel loved, supported and valued. When you can live in a place that devalues all that you are, for all that you stand against.