I was a newborn when you told me I was your perfect little girl
I was 2 when you first taught me how to speak
I was 4 when you got drunk & hit me
I was 5 when you first told me I was too fat
I was 6 when you left me.
I was 7 when you hit me again
I was 8 when I came home with tears running down my eyes because someone said mean things to me
I was 10 when I first started cutting
I was 11 and screaming your name at the top of my lungs.
I was 12 when I cut a little bit deeper. hoping you’d notice me
I was 13 and you called the cops on me
I was 14 and I didn’t see you all year.
You didn’t even believe my side of the story.
I am 15, and I can’t stand the way you look at me.
15, begging you to notice me.
screaming your name until I can’t breathe and crying out for help until I can’t see anymore.
16 and popping pills every day to end the pain and trying to stop the voices
17 and missing you like crazy. Even if we don’t get along.
But you’re still my dad