"You're just like him"
she said to me once.

"Yes, I am"
I shouted back.

but then why is it
that you bared me?

was it, nine months?
or no, it was less...
because you did not
want to be in the hospital during christmas.

But you are right.

I am my father's child.

Not that we were attached at the hip,
it's just that we are very much alike.

I am my father's child.
a drunken child.
temperamental child.

In more ways than one,
I am my father's child.

But deceiving you,

in that way...

I'll never be his.