You were the first man to ever break my heart.
I think I was five.
I always looked at you like you had stars in your eyes.
You looked so tough, you acted so cool.
When I grew up I wanted to be just like you.
Then I got older and the stars in your eyes were dull.
You always smelled like cigarettes and your pupils were always huge.
I didn't know what that meant but I still wanted to be just like you.
I wanted to smell like cigarettes,
and I wanted a skull tattoo,
and when I got older, I wanted to be in a rock star.
Anything to impress you.
You were always gone.
I always wondered why you never wanted to stay with me.
As I got older, I slowly understood.
You had another love, and boy, did she treat you good.
I spent so many nights crying.
Wishing that you would stay.
Asking myself what did I do to make you go away.
So, I looked for you in other men,
and I promised myself that I wouldn't let those men break my heart,
and it didn't really matter what they did to me because I was too high on drugs to care;
and I thought that that was love.
Only because you were never there.
Where were you when my cuts kept getting deeper?
Where were you when I was face to face with the grim reaper?
Why do you only come around when you want to give me another empty promise?
I would respect you more if you were just honest.
Thanks for the talk.
Can't wait to hear from you in another year.
Don't waste your breath.
I wont be here.

I woke today with a hole in my heart wishing you were still here.
Time was supposed to make things easier but it gets harder for me each and every year.
Today we should be celebrating you birthday but instead I woke from my dream and had to face fact.
The fact that your not here with me, and knowing you're never coming back.
Not a day since you left to join the Angels in the sky,
That I haven't needed you or sat alone to cry.
I know I'll see you someday soon
You're not here to celebrate your birthday daddy so I'm sending you up one balloon.
When it goes through all the clouds and straight to heaven for you.
You will find your birthday card attached that reminds you every day how much your loved and how I've missed you too.
Happy Birthday up in heaven Daddy, love you baby girl
©KimE2018

In the skeletal remains of the night
an echoing whimper of a frightening cry

"Daddy, there's monsters where there's no light."

I join under the covers and hum a soft lullaby

Daddy is here to protect
of all that haunts in the night
no cranny left unchecked
no monster left to fright

Sobbing, you moved your tiny body closer
threw your little arm around
laid your head on my shoulder
"Thank you daddy"
was your final sound

Eyes finally closed
breathing finally slowed
embraced and composed
your dream I borrowed.

chokes me. strangled me.
it was dark in my room.
very dark.
someone had closed the curtain.
i was small. maybe nine.
mommy wasn’t home.
but daddy was.
he lurched through my door.
that scared me. but why?
he’d never hurt me before.
only touched me lovingly.
like any daddy.
so why did i tremble?
why did i catch my breath,
hold it, as if
i might never breathe again?
why did my heart feel
like a race-car engine?
daddy must have heard it.
                                  Don’t be afraid, little flower.
                                  It’s only me.
and almost instantly, daddy
made everything seem just fine.
even when it wasn’t.

daddy fractured our world,
titled it off it’s axis, sent it
careening out of control.
that was before the day
his own impairment
made him overcorrect,
****
the mercedes onto unpaved
shoulder, then back
across two lanes of traffic,
and over the double yellow
lines, head-on into traffic.
that was before the one-ton
truck sliced the passenger
side wide open. that was
before premature death, battered
bodies, and scars no plastic
surgeon could ever repair.
yes, that was before

who comes
home every
day, dives
straight into
a tall amber
bottle, falls
into a stonewalled
well of silence,
a place where he can tread
the suffocating loneliness.
on the surface, he’s a proud
man. but just beneath his not-
so- thick skin, is a broken soul.
in his courtroom, he’s a tough
but evenheaded jurist, respected
if not particularly well liked. at
home, he doesn’t try to disguise his
bad habits, has no friends, a tattered
family. a part of me despised him,
what he’s done. what he continues
to do. another part pities him and
will always be his little girl, his
devoted, copper-haired daughter.
his unfolding flower.