Papa, I am sorry,
I know I should have told someone
but silence is my language
I am used to people not being here, you know
Lately, loneliness has been my greatest teacher.
When I was 5 years old
I was told that being born is my mistake
even though, family is someone
who is supposed to tell you that they love you
because there is ily in fam(ily)
even though, childhood is something
which should be covered in warm hugs, care, and love
mine was cut into slices with a velvet glove.
as I grew up to be a teen
Mumma, she cut and wiped the slate clean
maybe if I wasn't a girl
things would have been different
but no matter how much I played with car toys
she was still numb to my voice.
five years later
you died
you waved me from across them moon every night
but since that day
there was never a day when I and Mumma didn't have a fight
you were the only ray of light
I remember you used to write
about your daughter
all grown up and mature
little did you know
you were the author
to my fictional character.
you never gave up on me
and taught me
how to find the lock and the key
every time you used tell me your childhood stories
you told me
how you thought
that when you'd grow up and have children
you'd never let them feel alone
and today as I end this letter
I promise you
every lonely night
as I read this aloud to you
I promise I’ll wave back at you
I promise
I'll wave back at you.
