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I'm still the little girl that runs to her father when she hears he's home
But that girl stopped waiting and he walks in alone

I still feel the joy of when he carried me, I felt like a princess he was my brave knight;
now I just sit alone with him in no sight

Even though I wished that these moments could last
I think it's safe to say I grew up too fast
There's nothing I miss more than my relationship with my father. We made many memories until it all just stopped. Now we barely talk. Today I saw this video of him surprising me with something I really wanted, the video wasn't even sad but it still made me cry, I wish these moments could truly last and now it's safe too say that I grew up too fast.
LiWer 1d
i found silenced grief in my father's wristwatch
does he reminisce the golden days like i do?
once in a while, i look at my father's face
and notice the wrinkles —
do they come from worry,
or are they the scars of his sins?

sometimes, i walk down memory lane,
re-reading letters that are so dear to me
today, i found “happy birthday”
written on three sticky notes
in different styles —
i couldn't recognise my father's handwriting

the notes didn’t make me happy
they were reminders —
reminders that he missed
my last few birthdays
that he’ll never know my favourite colour
or why
i plan my own funeral so often

the notes still sit
untouched in my tiny box-
like him,
they say "happy birthday"
but never stay long enough to mean it

maybe love was quieter in his hands
and maybe that's what i'll ever get-
not presence,
not warmth,
just time,
and a man i call my father
who never stayed long enough
this is my first time writing on HePO. if you're reading this, hope you're having a wonderful day💙
Srishti 2d
I felt overpowered,
I stood on top of the mountain.
They said, "You are great —
A truly pure soul,
In a world full of fake purity."
"You are more than a normal girl."

And then my father said,
"I wish I had a son instead of a daughter."
I fell from that mountain...
And became just a speck of dust.
I will never never hate you papa I will take those words as a compliments.But still can't forget those words
As the 4th of July approaches, people prepare their fireworks and barbecues.
They emerge from their cozy corners, their towns and homes.
All getting ready for the festivities, their eyes sparkling with the anticipation of joy and relaxation.
I look up at my colorful banners and blue balloons, gently swaying in the breeze.
I shut my eyes and breathe in the aroma of barbecued meat mingled with a trace of smoke drifting from a nearby restaurant.
A sense of peace washes over me, accompanied by a bittersweet feeling as I remember a loved one who left this world on this American holiday.
It was 1997, and I was merely ten years old when the man I called my father took his final breath. I was just a child, and my world shattered into pieces as I watched him fight. I felt powerless to change the course of events, understanding that nothing could hold his spirit back from departing this life.
My tiny hands and aching heart were unable to save him.
Yet his compassion lives on in this world and within me. His love remains unforgotten.
Through my father, I experienced a love that was unconditional, and I carry that in my heart with affection and remembrance. I treasure our moments together and cling to the belief that our souls will reunite.
May these words find you in heaven until I can reach you.

-Rhia Clay
alex Jun 27
Once he’d adored her,
‘daddy’s little girl’
he had said
while he swung her around
then she perched on his shoulders.
He’d tell everybody
about his angel.

Until she hit thirteen,
the devil she became.
His grip tightened,
knuckles now white
‘Just like your mother’
‘Don’t you dare talk back’
He’d taught her how to flinch

Shown her
the cost of silence.
and whilst
Mothers forgive,
Wives excuse,
daughters remember-
because he always remembered

He raised a daddy’s girl
who won’t bow now
a girl unfettered she became
whilst he, fettered by his past
mistook fear for power
but now that’s gone
and so is he
Fear and respect wasn’t what she needed
Kaiden Jun 25
No.
A word you didn't seem to understand,
You acted on your thoughts
You believed everyone shared.

You tried to justify it by feelings,
Pretending there was a need for

The things you've done,
The innocence you've stolen
From your own child.

You imagined the desire
A toddler could never feel,
And proudly shared it with your friends.
Bragging about how mature
Your "little girl" was.

How good it felt for you,
To wipe the tears with the very same hand
That hurt me.

How you loved the sound
Of useless pleas,
A body you created to use.
sorry if this is triggering but im honestly so ******* done with my father, he moved to the same city as me recently and i'd rather die than be alone with him again cuz i know **** well what would happen
I S A A C Jun 25
Every day that I choose drugs instead of myself
I feel myself become less me and more him.
i feel my mental possibilities begin to shrink
i can feel the weight of the thoughts i think
i am not him until i walk by a mirror quickly
the reflection is uncanny, i am my daddy
another **** will fix me
at the pub drinking pink whitney
my Mary Jane with me
repeat and screech
old dog i need to teach
new tricks, discover peace
To all the daughters with a father —
How does it feel to live my dream?
To wake up with both parents under one roof,
To know what it means to feel protected?

Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers —
And Happy Father’s Day to the mothers, too.
The ones who had to step up in a father’s place,
Who fought silent battles,
And carried the weight of both roles.

To those mothers —
Don’t forget: it’s not your fault.
It’s their loss, not yours.
Thank you —
For taking the place they abandoned,
For giving your all while grieving your own loss,
For standing tall when you weren’t sure you could.
I wrote this out of inspiration for my mother, sometimes the bravest people we know are the ones who fight silently while being by your side.
eliana Jun 24
To have your last name
makes me ill.
You make me so angry
I want to ****!

I hate your voice
and the thought of you.
You were never there
when I needed you!

You're inconsiderate,
you're a lazy slob.
How could you do
what you did to mom?

It's like you don't
even accept me.
What kind of father
can you be?

You're stupid for thinking
that I'd forgive
what you did to me...to mom... to grandma.
How do you live?

Do you regret?
I hardly doubt.
I bet that I'm
the last thing you think about.

Don't lie to me.
I know I'm right.
I don't want you
in my sight!

Stay where you are;
don't bother.
You're lousy - I hate you
You're not my father!!

But that's okay,
you see,
because I don't need
your love!

You've forgotten
me before.
Go ahead...do it
some more!

LOSER! ****! - I hate you
you're not my father,
and guess what,
I'm no longer
your daughter!
while ive never thought to "****", at times when i was grieving my father being in jail, i hated him for quite some time and hated talking to him over the phone and hearing him tell me he misses me and loves me, thinking it was lies. i still have times when he calls it just disgusts me but im trying my hardest to not hold a grudge. i love him still but hes just not the same in my eyes.
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