You've lost it.
I cant see yo now.
Not that it matters to
you.
Mom told me the news --
that i wouldn't see you for
awhile.

These words surround my body
holding me in their grasp.
My thoughts muffled in my head.

I was the most important
person in your life.
I was daddy's little girl,
but you don't even care.
You were my best friend, Daddy.
My everthing.
You lost it.
I lost you.

The soft couch is my
only friend now,
holding me as my lips quiver
and the tears form.
I can still hear moms words
-- the piercing sound still
ringing in my ears--
that you've lost your house.

Her embrace doesn't heal
the wounds you've left me with.
Her kiss on my face isn't yours.
Her breath isn't yours,
even if it did smell of alcohol.
It was still you.
You were still here.

I glance out the window
maybe to see your blue Hummer
pull up, but i only see
the darkness of the night.
You've lost it --l
your home,
but Daddy don't you see --
you've also lost me.