Dying Connection

At one day old, the father held his baby-
Promised to always protect his little girl,
Vowing never to forget the moment
He saw nature’s most beautiful package in such a tiny form.

At five years old, daddy’s little girl refused to leave his side.
The father would give the world to his daughter,
But for now it was just a shiny new swing-
Every kick engraving another memory into their minds.

At ten years old, they were inseparable,
Could never get sick of one another,
No matter how many hours were spent
On her well, worn swing.

At fifteen years old, the happy world
Came crashing down around them.
The divorce was filed,
And shared visits at the same home were permitted to avoid conflict.


At sixteen years old, the girl was becoming used to the convenience of joint custody
But she still missed her father-
Looking forward to his warm embrace every other day.
Little did she know that one afternoon, it was a goodbye hug.

He just left,
Didn’t speak a word of never returning,
Not even giving his daughter a chance
To comprehend the situation.

But manages to send a text every few mornings with
“morning luv u” crudely typed across the screen.
Clearly this makes up for the empty hole now permanently dug
Deep into his daughter’s heart.




Nights that the daughter now spends alone
Are sleepless,
Wondering where her father is now-
If he’ll ever come home.

She wants to think he’s out there,
Trying to fight his way home.
But she knows he is out drinking his life away
With this woman who laughs and slurs “I hatechur daughter.”

The daughter is on the sideline,
Trying so hard to get through to her father.
He can’t even realize
It kills her to know that she can’t change anything.

At seventeen years old, the daughter still sits on that swing
Kicks until her legs go numb
But refuses to shed a tear for someone
Who no longer lives in her life.

The daughter likes to think she’s emotionally callous
And can handle anything,
But every so often the thought resurfaces,
“Why can’t I still be your baby girl?”