Musings on Life from a Dead Girl

Daughters

The best daughters are really just broken.

Too afraid to take a chance.

Threatened of what may happen if they sneak out.

Walking a tightrope without a net.

My entire life people pitied my father, a man with only daughters.

I can't understand it.

What about having a girl over a boy child is something to be sad about?

Why does this garner my father looks of sympathy?

What about having a daughter is so fucking bad?

I am a good daughter.

I have never given either of my parents any trouble.

Never dated.

Never broke your rules.

I stayed trapped in the gilded cage you taught me was our home.

I never strayed away from what you taught me.

I followed you blindly.

I studied what you wanted.

Took the job you wanted.

And yet you get pity for being my father.

I am a damn good daughter whatever that means.

I take care of you when you are sick.

I buy groceries and pay bills when you can't.

I have labored beside you in the summer heat.

I am not just a good daughter; I am a good child and that should be enough.

But all the world sees is a man with no son.

A man that jokes about what a blessing we are.

Talks about how life would be easier, better if I were male.

What could a son do for you that I haven't already?

You are so preoccupied with what you don't have, you didn't even bother to notice that you lost me a long time ago.

You may not have a son, but you don't have a daughter anymore either.