What do you do when you need a dad, but you don't have one? What do you do when there is a need and a want, a desire, an urge, stronger- more powerful- than your entire body, and you can't control it, and you can't find what you need anywhere, you can't find your drug in any store or in any alley or in any warehouse... what do you do? What do you do when your need surpasses the simple "I need new shoes" or "I need a ride to work" and escalates into the ever-hungry, ever-growing "I need oxygen, I need oxygen now" kind of want, kind of need, kind of necessity, tell me what do you do. What do you do when everywhere you turn you see that everyone has what you ravenously covet, when you know that you really shouldn't covet, but it can't be such a sin because you're supposed to have it too, just like everybody else, you shouldn't have to covet it because you should have it, but you don't. You don't have it. What do you do? What do you do when there's a sickening, gutted, gaping cave in the center of your abdomen and every time you try to swallow the bile that rises in your throat when you see movies like Imagine That or The Game Plan- that are your favorites even though you break every time- the hole just keeps on getting bigger and emptier, what do you do? What do you do when you meet the greatest men in the world and they mean the world to you, and you look up to them like they are shining stars- Orion's Belt, The Big Dipper maybe- and you're in a planetarium with nothing else to do but look up, when you realize they have become father figures and you have unintentionally gotten used to the idea that they could replace him, that they could be there when you needed him, when you needed a father, but then you quickly discovered that stars burn and stars aren't yours forever, tell me what do you do. What do you do when jealousy creates a bitter pill beneath your tongue, and you can't spit it out because every time your tongue touches it, you're reminded of him and how he was supposed to be there for you and how he was supposed to love you and want you and need you, how he abandoned you and broke you and how much you hate him and how you will never call him Daddy again, what do you do? What do you do when you have problems you can't discuss with your mom or your sisters or your brothers because they're specifically for him to help you with, when you have so many questions- he should be here so you could ask them- but you don't have anyone to ask them to, when you need him to protect you, to want you, to need you, to love you, to fight for you so you don't have to find a boy and try your hardest to pretend that he will protect you, want you, need you, love you, fight for you, when you need somebody to tell you you're beautiful, when you need somebody to tell you you're worth it and you deserve the best and you don't need a boy to make you feel special because you are, when you don't need just anyone, but you need him... or somebody to fill his shoes... somebody to take his space because the hole in your heart is spreading, eating you from the inside out, and soon you will be gone, disappear into nothing, into dust, what do you do? What do you do when you just want him there to call, to pick you up when you're down, when you're broken?

She could call her mom

Because her mom would always come, always be there, always show up

But she doesn't want
Her mom
Right now
Right now, she wants what she can't have
She calls her dad
She calls her dad

She calls her dad

Because she needs the one
Who is never there

He's never there. What do you do? What do you do when nobody understands that he's not a dad if he was never there, that he wasn't there even if you saw him sometimes, that just because he appeared present doesn't mean he wasn't absent, or playing another role that wasn't father, a role more like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Frankenstein, a picture of fright, what do you do? What do you do when everybody says that lots of kids don't have dads and they grow up to be amazing, that lots of kids don't have dads, but they don't let it stop them, that lots of kids don't have dads, but they're fine. But what everybody doesn't know is that I will be amazing, that I won't let it stop me, that you will think I'm fine, but my heart will always be missing something, that one thing. When I reach for the stars and grasp them, sleep on cotton candy clouds, take nightly strolls on the Milky Way, and play musical chairs with the galaxies, what do I do? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do when I do my very best and you're not there, you're not there, what do I do, what do I do, when I give it my all and you're not there, you're not there, what do I do , what do I do, when I create something amazing out of this one life, out of this short branch of time, and you're not there, you're not there to be proud of me, what do I do, what do I do, tell me, Daddy, what am I supposed to do?