Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy

I can't say I hate you,

because I miss you.

I feel like people don't often miss things they hate.

I do have feelings of hatred towards you,

somehow I still love you.

No, I love the idea of you.

The idea of having an actual relationship with you,

but every time we went back it was like an addict falling back into their addiction.

I wasn't addicted to you,

but how you treated me,

I was addicted to the abuse.

I was trapped somehow convincing myself that I was the problem.

That you would change.

That you would change for me.

That you would change because of me.

But you never did.

You were never going to.

You were supposed to be there.

Always,

always and forever.

You were supposed to pick me up in the hospital,

call me yours

and promise unconditional love.

But you weren't there,

You were never there for me,

Only for yourself.

You were too busy sipping coffee

and bathing in your own filth.

I wish that bath had turned as black as your coffee

or as dark as your soul.

Shown you all that you are.

When I would stand in front of you each day I was always told the same thing.

That I'm worthless.

That I'm illiterate.

That I was either too skinny or too fat.

I was never good enough for you.

I could never be perfect.

When I'd stand up for myself it only got worse,

often getting smacked or shoved and being told I deserved it.

I always believed I deserved it.

You would do things that I was always told weren't okay,

but that was how I was raised,

how you raised me,

so to me

it felt normal.

It was normal.

My friends would never want to come over

for fear of being vigorously hit on,

or seeing you hit on me.

You were always trying to have control,

needing to know where I was every minute,

every second,

every breath.

I wasn't able to leave the room without your consent,

you never asked for my consent to touch my legs.

When I asked you to stop you'd only do it more,

acting like a toddler who had lost control,

no parent guardian trying to stop them.

You never asked to watch me in the shower...

you always made excuses.

So did the justice system and CPS

when they had to tell me that what you were doing

wasn't necessarily against the law.

That they couldn't do anything about it.

The more I asked for help the more I was labeled as an angry teen,

the more I became one,

because of you.

I've tried to give you as many chances as I could

but it seems the more I cut people some slack

the more I'm treated like a cigarette.

They pull me out of their pack,

put me between their chapped lips,

use me up,

suck the life out of me,

and when they're done,

they toss me aside like a piece of trash.

All I wanted was someone I could rely on.

all I wanted was someone who'd tell me they loved me each day,

and actually mean it.

Instead of pointing out my flaws,

and every single mistake.

Someone who'd praise me for things I did well,

and remind me how fucking amazing I am.

When I was growing up you told me that I just needed to be normal.

What even is normal?

If normal is anything like you,

I do not want to be normal.

Now I know that I was not the problem,

that I never deserved it,

and that nobody is perfect.

Admitting to myself that what you did was abuse,

that it caused my PTSD,

was the hardest thing I ever did.

I started to feel like I had more control over my own life.

When I finally left,

I became the bird in my dreams.

I broke free from your cage that seemed almost impossible to get out of.

I had scars,

scrapes

and bruises,

but I was strong.

I am strong.

I can soar in any direction.

You can't touch me

for I am too high in the sky,

flying to heights never reached before.

You can't touch me,

you can't control me,

you can't use me,

because I am my own being.

I am,

Amazing