Poems/Creative Writing

Replacement

Am I really your daughter?

Even though you aren't truly my father.

Do you really have the luxury of calling me your daughter?

Last I checked; your name isn't on my birth certificate.

Last I checked; you don't have legal custody of me.

No, you're not my father. You're a replacement.

You favor your children, and I am your last priority, because who cares about the girl who isn't related by blood?

No one.

No one cares.

I'm an outcast in my own house, you trying to tell me who I am because I don't already know.

Because my sexual orientation isn't good or "normal" enough for you.

You cannot tell me who I am.

You don't know who I am.

Because you never listen.

You say things and you don't think twice about how that person is going to react.

You don't care. It's all about you.

Nothing else matters, except your real kids.

You don't even care how many times I have sobbed due to your words.

It's not fair that you get to call me your child when you don't even act like a father.

To me.

To me.

You act more as a person who disciplines me, nothing else.

How is that being a dad?

A dad that I want and need?

A dad that you supposedly are?

Newsflash: You're not.