United States

16 | INFJ | ♀️| massachusetts

[ summer + fall 2019 ] peer ambassador

just a melancholy, existential girl with a penchant for poetry, fairy tales, and magical realism.

Message to Readers

didn't realize until afterward that it's coincidentally almost father's day, so i guess it's a good time to share a poem i wrote about/for my dad

Addressed to my Father:

June 16, 2020


You cradle my girlhood to your chest.
        (Yes, I’m fragile. Do you mind my brittleness?)
I don’t write about you very often, I apologize
        in correspondence cached beneath your bedroom door.
        It’s painless to untangle my femininity from my mother, 

but your fingernails are a magnet for my resistance.
    I wrench my youth from your red-chapped hands.

Teeth spill forth.

        The ones you collected on your pen as you gave me the tooth fairy.
                (Did I ever say thank you for enmagicking my wings?)

Blue ink flourishes across my wrist.
in your downcast script.

        I’m yours.
(Was I ever really yours?)

        You intoned me with independence,
        so how can you expect anything lesser than autonomy?

Now, you only mourn a daughter lost;
little cherub was simple to love,

        but anorexic teenager possesses multitudes 
        you will never understand.

You still curl my hair and ask me why I shame it straight.
        (In retrospect, I was an ugly baby, don’t you agree?)
You say you liked my coiled halo.

(I laugh.)

Dad, I was never easy to love,
        you just couldn’t see past my topography.


See History
  • June 16, 2020 - 6:07pm (Now Viewing)

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  • joella

    "Now, you only mourn a daughter lost;/ little cherub was simple to love," i don't know what this piece was specifically about, but this line hit home.

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood


    6 months ago