d1ee774b822e2ef74ac42ce82c4251c4 Every morning
she slips out of bed, in secret
and quietly creeps to the bathroom mirror
where her face is sketched
lines and blemishes
a box
and then, weeping
for the reflection has not changed

I stare at your pictures
and I try to find a connection;
the memories that I have of you
have no face
I do not remember your eyes
or your voice
or your smell
I would not know you
if I passed you in the street

And yet
you are in me
all of the time
Just when I think
try to convince myself
that the pain you caused me is no longer with me
I am knocked down by the power
of you

The girl
this girl
has love in front of her
A human being offering his heart
his soul
threading together your missing pieces
with his
and she weeps
it is all she has ever wanted
but she cannot accept it

tumblr_mpb058R0jj1sxfhu3o1_500Back to the mirror
back to the tub
Let me clean myself
Let me remove every piece of myself
and then perhaps
we can talk
about this boy loving me

The tub full of scalding water
and scratching
but nothing
takes the filth away

You stand on a pedestal
you are infinite
and yet
you are just a man
you are growing old
you are dying
and yet
you are immortal

Move along, like I am supposed to
why can’t I?
I hope someday that we will meet again
the little girl wants your arms around her;
she wants to imprint your face
once and for all
into her memory,
she wants a kiss on the cheek
she thinks that if you tell her that you love her,
that you loved her all along,
she will be magically fixed
She will then be able to look to her lover
and accept his words
his touch
his promises
She thinks
that you hold the key
for her to love herself

Life is touching souls
and you had a part
in creating mine
You stole
what you should have loved
and you broke
what you should have held sacred

what is so wrong with me?
What did you see in me
that was so disgusting?
What did you not see in me?
What is it that I do not possess?

What would it have taken,
for you to love me?



6 thoughts on “Dad

  1. He didn’t take anything from you, no one did. You’re stronger than that and that my love is why you are who you are today. Because no one, not your father, not anyone, could touch the goodness you have inside of you. I love you, always. It’s said monsters are made, not born. Well your father and mine might have been carbon copies just as you and I are. Nevertheless, at the end of the day, nothing was taken away. Just remember what I told you last night, I meant every word. I love you, unconditionally, the way you should’ve been loved all along.

  2. Erica, It’s so hard when our fathers are not who they should be. When I think of “dad” I think of protector, strength, provider, support, unconditional love, always there, tender, strong, and best friend. For those of us (myself included) who have never known a father/dad to be that kind of man, it is heartbreaking. I’m a much older woman than you and there are days yet when I cry — longing for the dad I never had. My dad left this earth a couple of years ago, and he went to his grave rejecting me and I will never know why. Some of us just never get the kind of dad we were supposed to have. BUT, you have a chance at love — another kind of love — with a soul mate. Don’t allow your father’s inability to love you in the right way get between you and the love you deserve today!

    Love yourself enough to allow yourself to be loved!

    Your friend,
    Clara (Dimmy’s Mom)

  3. Oh God of eternity, such innocence keeps our worldly bodies, our wretched lives, in wreckage, in bondage, on on trial as if this should be life’s purpose. We look to Your skies and wonder, we search through the darkness wuthout seeing, our sight imprisoned by the power of our child soul in wanting. Is there a kept measure of such things? Will it amount to a sense, a reason against unreason as she sings her wicked lullabies and keeps us unasleep? The answers do not matter but the questions all repeat, and in this moment I am awed with looney. Play your tune, sweet thing. Keep your heart awake in this way but let it never stop beating


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