he says im still his baby girl,
no matter how old i get.
but does he not see my eyelashes caked with mascara,
my lips painted red.
is he oblivious to the cigarettes laying on the porch,
does he not detect the stench of alcohol on my breath.
the lacy lingerie, the boys, the parties, is it all a blur to him.  
the baby girl i once was,
the girl who wore pink and white,
who played princess,
the one who picked daises,
who smiled with shiny buck teeth.
the one who had eyes of innocence and purity,
she was killed.
she is gone.
dead. disappeared. deceased.
FOREVER.
why can't he accept that,
why can't he grasp that fact,  
that i will never be his baby girl again.