the lone bird
who flies away from the flock
choosing a different flight
that's you

going away, well more like
we left you, the flock
my mom and I
but for our own good

and fifteen years later
you swoop back in
with a single message

it's not that I hate you
though I have every right to it
but what right do you have
to end with "your dad"?

you aren't my dad
what did you ever do as a father,
for me?

and there are so many butterflies
inside me
each marked in a beautiful pattern
displaying who and what they feel
about this news

a darkened red
the pissed teen,
loyal to mom

tranquil blue and white
who cares not
what you want

and the smallest
yet she flutters the fastest
she is the little girl
who always wanted her daddy
curious about her own flesh and bone
excited even
but still cautious about talking to strangers

and that's what you are, "dad"
a stranger

after your fifteen year excommunication
you break borders
and fly back
and I have no idea what to do...