papa

I used to long for your loving hand to hold,

but I was met with a burning cigarette.

The ink that was splashed onto the wall,

Your words of unlovingness,

are imprinted in my heart even after our home was sold.

Comparison, criticism, 

Under the shadow of the other people's daughters,

We were never good enough for you to boast.

Threats of killing us with you,

Fights with my hopeless mother,

All but left me with scars of an unhappy marriage,

Which I experienced like a first person.

But we left you, crying in your soul.

Phone calls for you stopped.

We change to names you are never told.

When I grow old, you are like my ghost.

The unexplainable fear kept me limping.

How are you, my father?

I look for traces of love in my childhood,

and I could only find hatred that a 5-year-old cant explain.

How are you, my father?

Is love ever too late, for you and for me?

Time can never be turned back but we can change our future.

As I grow older, you grow smaller.

The thought of regrets tormented me,

If only you did not make it so difficult,

to forgive and be healed;

If only you did not make it so heavy,

to see your weaknesses and tears.

If "love" is beyond my vocabulary, 

Please find it in my eyes.

It may be complicated, but it is here.

- Daphne, 1 December 2014