Father.

Tonight,
I think of you ..

Father,

I see you,
with a belt in your hands..
yelling 'bout all the things
written on my door.

In my imagination,
I paint you..
as loving and as strict
as i can...

and I wonder,
would you care about
the mess my room is?

would you complain
about how my shorts are too short?...
and how I'm not supposed to use
red lipstick yet...

Father,
tonight I think of you..

and long to..
for once
have you holding me in your arms...

for you to take my side,
when mom is being hormonal..

for you to take me
out for ice cream and tell me about
your childhood,

for you to be here...

And acknowledge
how grown up I am.