Dear God,

Why don't you love me?
Everyone tells me you do.
Everyone tells me you will
Everyone tells me you will as long as I'm a good, good girl.
Well I'm not a good girl, and I'm not terribly sorry.
Everyone tells me you love me anyway.
Why do they say it over and over
You never do.
No, you never say "I love you, Tracie."

No, not in my ear
No, not in my holy books
No, not in my heart.
No, no, no.
Not once does it say
John 3:16
"I love you, Tracie."
Not once.

You're supposed to love me.
You're supposed to be my daddy.
I have a daddy, and he's real.
He's here.
He's with me all the time.
He tells me every day
"Tracie, I love you.
You are my cupcake princess."
Daddy says he loves me.
Aren't you supposed to be my daddy too?
Matthew 5:48
Daddy why don't you love me?

Why can't you HEAR me, Daddy?
Can't you hear your aching child?
Can't you hear the cries within me
Of your little one lost in the dark
When the voice of her father has left her
Without compass by which to navigate?
Don't you hear me when I curl up inside
Knocked to the floor on my bed
Holding myself close in my apartment
Screaming in my soul
"Daddy, why won't you protect me from the monsters
From the demons in my head
From the eyes in the dark that come to me at night
When I can't sleep and they tear me apart
Because they're coming from inside of me and
No one else can see them in the dark
Turn on the light!
TURN ON THE LIGHT!
DADDY ARE YOU THERE"

And the darkness answers nay.

One day it won't hurt.
One day I'll stop caring
One day I'll stop hating you
Because I'll have stopped loving you
One day I won't be afraid.
You don't have to love me, I suppose.
If that's what you want.
And one day I won't hate you for it.
You don't have to love me
Just never ask for me to love you either.

Dear Dad,
Can I please come home?
I know I've only just arrived,
But already there's so much that I've survived.
This place is nothing like where I'm from

Hey, dad, people are not kind.
I've had doors slammed in my face,
Used, broken, and I've been replaced.
I've been dropped, I've been forgotten,
and I've been left behind.

Hey, dad, I know I can't remember.
Still I miss you and my mother,
All my friends, and my big brother.
When will I leave this time of endless December?

Hey, dad, I know that I'm not ready.
I haven't learned, I haven't sweat,
I haven't lived enough just yet.
It'll be a little while before I am quite steady.

Love you, dad.
You always make things better.
Tell brother I miss him,
Hug mother, and kiss them.
I always look forward to your next letter.

Love Always,
Your daughter, Tracie.

By: David W. Clare

The aging secretary bugged me all morning, she even tossed salt in my womb: eh wound, er I mean coffee...
That old tuff broad must be nuts!

Hector, was juggling the books behind Tracie's back again. He's blind enough to fall for them goofy lies...

Another day at the office with a hang-over the size of a rusted-out Buick yanked out of an old junkyard swamp. Boy, was I zonked...

My broken-down dented up car ran out of gas on the freeway. The tow truck almost broke apart from being too old...

I swear, that creep-faced driver looked familiar. Yeah, that's it! I saw his mug-shot in the old town-square post office last year. He probably lied, told me he goes bowling on Saturday nights.

What a hidden agenda...

My job was answering calls until Shelly gets back in town...

Her kid-sister went berserk and wound up in a not-so straight-jacket.

She is a kept-woman, forced to serve and sleep with a callus man she cares nothing about...

The county hospital phoned; she took an overdose, went into a coma...

That's life in the big city!
It's a pity that old hidden agenda...


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