Sunday, October 02, 2005

Daddy's Girl

Daddy’s girl, I used to be
From birth until about grade three.
I grew and grew to understand
The guy I called “Dad,” was not a man.

I learned the cause of the divorce
“Abuse,” Mom said, “was the driving force.”
As I matured, becoming a teen
My father controlled me, making me mean.

I wrote several letters, made a threat or two
Stating that if changes weren’t made, hell would ensue.
Naturally, he undermined my ability
And I reacted with added hostility.

I visited him there in Eastern Washington
Wasting the days with his daughters and son.
He read my letters, journal, and email,
Without reason, besides the fact that he’s male.

All this continued throughout the years
Only causing vows and tears.
I guaranteed I would leave when I turned eighteen
And only return with a mincing machine.

I began to think of ways to ruin his life,
Turn his kids into terrors who would cause him great strife.
My sister pitched in ideas to assist;
You see, she doesn’t like him any more than a cyst.

He threatened us for not conforming
He didn’t know that we were brainstorming.
We never put any plans into action,
But somehow I found myself in a chain reaction.

My family went horseback-riding one day
I saw myself galloping, in an out-of-body way.
My stirrups weren’t high enough
And my landing was rough.

But I raised the stirrups and remounted the horse,
It started galloping again of course.
Again I fell off, and hurt my neck and back,
I’m pretty sure I heard it crack.

Shane and Brenda gave me some meds
When Mom found out, she nearly called the feds.
My friend took me to the emergency room on Mom’s orders
Which overstepped Shane’s set borders.

He came to take me home after I was x-rayed
But Mom was coming to get me, so I stayed.
He came back with the parenting plan
So I was forced to return home with the man.

As I packed my bags that night,
Brenda told my mom that I was a fright.
“All she does is make the rest of us miserable.”
Apparently I am quite unstable.

So I wrote another letter
This time, offering a visitation that would work better.
He still hasn’t replied to what I said
Probably remembering that night with dread.

Overall, I like staying here more.
The only bad thing is my unseen siblings, whom I adore.
I will always love the father that was mine.
However, his actions towards me are not so divine.