i was the little girl who still believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and you. eight years old and naive, i thought of santa clause as the good man in the red suit and the tooth fairy as a small being who chased away the fears of losing my teeth and you as the man who didnt break my heart at four years old. i watch my mother throw up in the toilet of our small one bedroom apartment, teeth falling out and tears running down her face, i lose my first tooth that i can remember two days later. i cried the same tears that ran down my mothers face, of sorrow and fear. my teeth will grow back unlike hers, the tooth fairy slips money under my pillow at night and i pretend i dont know my mother keeps our teeth in a little blue box tied with a white bow. i am 12 years old and i help my mother wrap presents for the family. i let the emptiness sink in as i scribble "from Santa" on the presents to my niece and nephew. i pretend i never believed in the big man with the red coat who delievers presents to all the good children, they were not good children. my tears are for my lost childhood and the thoughts that run through my head when i think of my nephew who is somehow three years older than me. you taught me how to grieve before i could even walk you set me up for a lifetime of heartbreak. and as the first man to break my heart you set a strong example. and i quiver at the thought of anyone following in your foot steps. i am 15 years old and i believe in Santa clause for my nephew who is turning two years old. i slip money under my nieces pillow. i am 17 years old and i still wonder how i was never good enough for you. you call me on the phone for the first time in my life.
you want me back.
and i am almost an adult.
i am 17 years old and i no longer believe in santa clause, the tooth fairy, and im coming to the conclusion that it was unrealistic to ever believe in you.
16 years after you left and you want me to call you dad
what do you want ben
after a lifetime of teaching me lessons in heartache and heartbreak
you just want me to call you back and i will raise kids who won't hear of santa clause and the tooth fairy and the deadbeat dad whos eyes rolled back into his head like he was searching for the courage to love me in between the needles he stuck into his veins. i reach out into the dark searching for the ghost of a happy family and instead find the shadow of the life we could have had shrouded in lies and misery.
i grew up believing in Santa clause, the tooth fairy, and you.
i am 17 years old and you never deserved to be my Christmas wish for eight years straight
i am 17 years old and my heart breaks when i remember the tears my mother shed when i cried for you to come back every night.
it took me 16 years to figure out that fathers who loved drugs more than their daughters dont deserve to be fathers.
i am 17 years old and im finally letting you go