hey dad.
how are you?
i miss you. a lot.
although you're just a text away, i still can't bring myself to carry through.
i hope she treats you well. and i hope those boys aren't ornery *******.

i sometimes think about the day at the st. louis children's mueseum.
it was happiness.
i think that's my reason.

i still haven't told you about it; the darkness, i mean
my darkness i should say
because i know about yours
maybe we can bond
since our biological bond isn't real

sometimes when i'm sad, i want to call you
but you're probably busy
or maybe you don't care
i don't know

i wanna tell you how i can't stop thinking about filling the emptiness and longing, with substances you've had issues with in the past
speaking of, you're drinking again.

i blame her whole-heartedly
although it pains me not to give the fault to myself for once,
i still will always blame her

did you know that when you got engaged, i wanted to jump off a cliff?
probably not.

do you know that i still sometimes feel like that?
but not just becasue of you.
mom is a factor and sonia and grandma and friends and boys
but you,
you were the one i never thought would make me feel so ******

it's cliche, i know
an other suicidal teen girl with daddy issues

i'm thinking about what would happen if i were to visit you in the fall
imagining her on your arm makes my heart feel stretch across the grand canyon of space that seperates your world and mine

someday i will tell you
everything
every feeling and thought and wrong-doings
i will say it all

dad, i miss you to the ******* moon and back
it's five in the moring and i'm thinking of the way you used to take care of our yard
you were just getting bad then
i was young
i didn't realize
please know i've grown into a woman
without you
i get it now
i'm imagining seeing you in september and you sugar coating the truth and me crying over a false reality
so please be honest with me if you want to be in my life
i run on truthfulness and cynical humor
and if you can't handle me
tell me
because i deserve the truth as much, if not more than you

i love you, ron.
and you will always be my father
no matter who comes in goes in my life
you will walk me down the aisle and we'll be happy
as happy as we were that day at the st. louis children's muesuem

i miss you so ******* much, dad
call me back as soon as you get this.
i hope you are doing well.

Just because my eyes
are slightly more red than the
average, and my ears listen more to
                                                                ­                                                    roars

than normal talk. My fingers are
more greedy, reaching for things
never yearned
                                                                ­                                                    before

I met you. Why now do familiar faces wish to
pour into my sharp eyebrows
                                                        ­                                                            speec­hes

I don't care much to hear. Does
it matter that running feels more
natural, instinct that I should feel
                                                            ­                                                        afraid

b­ut I don't. Do I care to
figure out
                                                                ­                                                    the monster

that reflects back into my cheekbones.
What does it hungar for? What does it
know? I'm not sure if I have the  
                                                           ­                                                          will

to overcome it. Or the ability to pry away
the nails that resemble too much
the rage of
                                                              ­                                                        claw

mar­ks. Dare I take a light into these dark
thoughts and search for long sentences
that traveled
                                                        ­                                                              awa­y

from the mess. What do I expect to find, what
is it I look to now for answers? Should I
stand on
                                                                ­                                                       what's left

of this old bridge with these rotten logs and
aging secrets? This sight- is it part
                                                            ­                                                            of me

or is it just a sad painting I keep confusing
with a sad memory. My heart aches for beauty
in the intriguing hues of gray.
                                                           ­                                                             or maybe

this gallery, this mueseum of
inner maps will lead to new rooms.
Red eyes, angry claws, mighty roars,
sharp eyebrows
                                                                ­                                                        the monster is

what I believed to represent. Perhaps
it is only a mere splattering of
                                                              ­                                                            brush­strokes

I allowed my mind to be absorbed into. Like
all good art, it captured my soul, paralyzed.
                                                      ­                                                                 ­     and I

was unsure of reality. How funny
it is to be so lost and not know it. Now
I see clearly, now I can
                                                             ­                                                              continue

to know. Know what I hungar for, what
I crave. I am what I want
                                                            ­                                                                 to be

and that is as comforting as walking
onto a porch to observe the sun as it
dives into solid ground.
                                                         ­                                                                 ­    Free

as the cool night air, welcoming
the stars and all the promise a new
morning has to offer.