Three Questions For Dad

One.

What is your favorite color?

Maybe it was blue, green, or red.

Mine is purple.

But you'll never know that.

 

Two.

Are you left-handed or right-handed?

I was born left-handed.

But I thought being different was wrong.

So, I am right-handed.

 

Three.

What do I do now?

Now that you are gone,

a piece of me is empty.

I am lost.

 

Ten years of my life

I spent thinking the man drinking in the garage

was my father.

Ten years go by and now he isn't.

 

Ten years of wondering if my father

would come to my soccer game.

Ten years of disappointment

when he never did.

 

Ten years of cleaning up his mess

when he got too drunk and angry.

Just to find out

he isn't even my father.

 

They used to ask us,

Who is your hero?

Responses ranged from

Mom, firefighters, policemen.

 

My answer

Is me.

 

I was ten when I found out you passed, dad.

They told me it was heart problems.

I believed them

I trusted them.

 

I was fifteen when I attempted suicide for the first time, dad.

They told me you comitted suicide.

I hated them.

They lied to me.

 

Ive spent the past two years trying to figure out who I am.

All I know is who I am not.

 

I am not the daughter of an alcoholic.

I am not a failure.

I am not who they want me to be

But at least I know its okay to be different.

And its okay to not have a father.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

Comments

magicmari1214

This poem is about me and what I went through around 10 years old. I had grown up with my mother and stepfather. My biological father was not allowed to be in my life, even though I was told he wanted to. Up until I was 10, I had thought my stepfather was my father. My biological father passed away on my birthday. My family told me it was heart problems. When I was 15, I attempted suicide. It was in the hospital, while I was hooked up to many machines and waiting to hear about how I was that I was told my father had killed himself. It was devastating and took a big toll on my life. Now I am preparing for college on my own. I have been kicked out of my home and have already graduated high school. If heaven is real, I hope my dad is looking down at me feeling as proud as can be. All my accomplishments I owe to him for inspiring me to live.

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741