i miss my father

When you ask who I miss most in the world,

I will tell you it is my father,

And you will blink and ask,

"Isn't he still alive?"

And I will shrug and tell you yes,

Because it's simply too much to explain.

I miss my dad who would let me paint his nails and put what little hair he had in bows.

I miss my father who would take my hand and buy me caramello koalas at the iga every morning.

I miss the man who tied my helmet strap and put me on the back of his bike to take me to school,

And who I'd then run to say goodbye to on the other side of the road,

Screaming "I love you" into the wind.

I miss my dad who felt like peace.

I miss my father who made me feel safe enveloped in his arms.

I miss the man who didn't blame me for my victimhood,

Who didn't tell me I am a slut and that if my rapist could hit me why shouldn't he,

Who didn't lie to punish me for punishments sake

And didn't make me wish he were dead so when I slit my own throat, maybe we could find peace together in the afterlife.

So when I tell you it is my dad who I miss most in this world,

Understand I am aware his shell still walks,

That blood still pumps his body,

That if I reached out he might reach back.

But I cannot reach out.

Because my dad doesn't exist anymore.

It's just a man wearing his face.