Who Am I

21 Jul

Daddy , if I find a way to be more non-existent, I’ll let you know.
Through my actions: I would be persistently and fiercely pleasant like the daughters on family television, as deep as a surface smile and a glamorous yet understated mirror of outstanding parenting. I would sanitize every surface i touched, not a fingerprint of evidence of my consumption of light, water or energy to be found. I would defy the human shackles of dependence and be powered by love, and love alone. I would be selfless and tame. I would be be extraordinarily ordinary. Daddy, I’m sorry.

Daddy, I’m sorry my moods oscillates like the bounce of my curls, and my eyes observe with the intense fire personified in my red-hot mane. I’m sorry for my insatiable appetite for questions, hypothetical and real, and endless battle for a best fitting answer. I’m sorry for being a living paradox and a tireless controversy. I’m sorry that shadows and skeletons have a magnetic attraction to me and I seem to bring out the worst of things in your presence. Daddy, I’m sorry.

Daddy, I’m sorry my my heart is locked inside an icebox behind bones and bars visible to the human eye. I’m sorry for my weaknesses and my strengths, because really they are one in the same. I’m sorry I’m not your little girl, that I never was, nor ever desire to be. I’m sorry what you call parenting I call patronizing, what you call love I call guilt-evoking selfishness. I suppose if I adapted to your dictionary, life would be much more simple.

Daddy, I’m sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused between you and Mom. I’m sorry for the divorce scares and for being the termite eating away at your marital foundation.

For being me, I’m sorry, but I cannot and will not be anyone else. So take me or leave me, Daddy, is all I have to say.

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