I am the foolish little girl
Who believed in anything.
My father teaching me,
That you can't believe in everything
You hear.
I remember him telling me silly little things
On the car ride to grandma and grandpa's place,
Just so he could see a smile on his daughter's beautiful face.

I am the little girl
Who loved her father
More than anything
Because he never yelled, or got mad.
Because the last thing he wanted was for me to be sad.
Because he let me play with my barbies in the living room
Just so i can be by him.
Because he let me put the thin slices of cheese
In the mac and cheese he was making
On the weekend i was there. 

I am the girl that pretended
To fall asleep in the backseat of my dad's old car,
Just so he would carry me inside
Our small apartment,
Because i wanted to feel the warmth of his arms
wrapped around my little body.
Because i wanted lay my head on his shoulder
And feel his heartbeat, beating like a drum.

I am the girl that snuck in my father's room,
In the middle of the night,
crawling under his warm blankets next to him.
And telling him i had a bad dream,
When really i just wanted to sleep by him.
So i could feel safe,
Laying next to his warm body
On his bed full of water.
As i try to get comfortable,
I can hear the water move beneath us.

I am the curious little girl
Sitting in the backseat of my dads car
Asking him
Silly questions like, 
“How do you spell A?”
And
“Whats the difference between elephants and giraffes?”
Waiting for an answer,
Watching him smile through the rearview mirror.
Because i loved to see him smile
Especially when i was the one to cause it.

I am the girl that lived two lives.
One at moms
One at dads
From living with mom
And whoever she was dating.
To living with dad
Just me and him,
In his messy little apartment. .

I am the girl who grew up knowing
My dad had diabetes,
But not knowing what it meant.

I am the girl who grew older
And learned more about life
And what diabetes was

From injecting insulin
To IV’s In the hospital
From worrying about him having too much sugar
To him having not enough.
Watching my father
Standing in our small white bathroom,
Prick a needle into his finger
I watch the red drop of his blood
Drip onto the white slip
Of disappointment.
I watch him stab a needle into the fat of his stomach
Just so he could stay alive.

I am the girl that grew farther apart
From my father,
After he got married
To Peggy
When i was 8.
Peggy,
From her prized
Pig collection
To her perfect garden
Of purple pansies
And poppies.
Peggy, My step-mom,
Her spiteful non-existent words
Soaring through my sad, sick ears
Sinking me further into the quicksand
And sending me to the sad truth of reality.

I am the girl that will always love my caring father,
No matter what happens.
Because he, is my role-model.
He will always be there to try to make me smile.
And he is the one that taught me you can't believe everything
That you hear.