You were never like the other dads.
You were never like the ones in stories.
The ones that would teach their daughters to:
swim,
ride a bike,
or play guitar.
You always said you’d teach me how to play,
but you never did,
and I stopped asking,
when I learned about empty promises,
and not to believe
that you’d always come through.
I guess I put too much faith in stories;
I should have known better,
they were just stories after all.

You never were like the other dads.
When I had a special event,
you’d never come,
unlike the other dads.
You’d just lie in bed
or on the couch,
say you were tired
and didn’t feel well.
I’d say it was fine
and get well soon,
then we’d leave
without you there
but an ache in my heart was.
I learned to expect it,
so I wouldn’t get hurt.

I don’t know why I call you dad,
you don’t deserve it.
You never act like a dad should act.
Asleep most of the day,
When you awake–
you’re watching TV
or calling for us
to get you something
that’s two feet away.
Or you’d bellow for food
or maybe a soda,
never mind that we have things to do
that don’t involve babysitting you.
You say if you could you would
get these things yourself.
Save your words,
we both know they are lies.
When you could,
you didn’t.
Too lazy I suppose.
And now you can’t.
You don’t walk
–you waddle!
Like a penguin
or a toddler!

Accurate, isn’t it?
Toddler?
That’s what you are,
an over grown toddler,
who screams and yells
when he doesn’t get
what it is he wants
when he wants.

I resent you now,
you know.
And you make me so angry,
because I used to love you,
but that was years ago.
Before I knew it was your fault,
the heart attack,
the stroke,
if you took better care,
it wouldn’t have happened.
But you didn’t,
and you did what you always did,
you do as you always do,
eat and sleep,
sleep and eat.
You’re taking yourself down,
and you’re taking us down with you.
And that’s why,
I feel nothing for you.
Why I feel so empty.
You’re supposed to care;
I don’t care what you say,
actions speak louder than words.

Like this year,
Until mom reminded you,
You forgot it was my birthday.
I thought you couldn’t hurt me;
You proved me wrong.
Thanks dad.