To the people without a father

Not once have I ever called you that.
It wasn’t because I loved calling you Daddy, but because you left me.
A father is supposed to stay strong to protect their daughter from the world. But in reality I needed protecting from you.

Age 7: You  were the one who taught me I love you is another saying for sorry. You taught me that love is barely anything but a fucked up story. You taught me that life isn’t what its cracked up to be.

You taught me. Yet the things I learned from you were never spoken.

Don’t touch daddy when his breath smells funny because daddy isn’t home any more. Don’t miss daddy when he’s on vacation because you know he’s not coming back anymore.

Don’t. Daddy was falling apart. Everyday i saw less of him until he disappeared for good. His hands flew at mommy and he told me its a way to say I love you but when a man puts hands on a woman its not love that they’re discussing. It’s all consuming rage.

Daddy, where have you gone? You’re not home and mommy doesn’t know where you are.

Age:14 Daddy. Or should I not call you that any more. In my book you’re not a father because you left us for the hate. The hate that consumed your mind and made you into a monster! Daddy, where have you gone? I wanted a father but never had a chance to have one. So should I call you my dad? Or a man who left his family for something in the streets.

Daddy, who are you now? Because I believe that the second you left I became a fatherless child.


This is mainly about a girl (me?) Who loses her father. Not physically but mentally.


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