The first man a girl loves is her father,
the one that held her when she cried
from a bike accident at 6.
When she was afraid of the monsters
that sheltered under her bed,
he cradled her softly until she fell asleep.
He was the loudest in the crowd at her ballet recital
and the quiet one beaming at her graduation.
When heaps of work were piled high on his desk
only for her would he put them aside,
because the first man a girl loves is her father
Too much to drink.
“Can you pick me up?”
Shouts and screams played in the quiet little house,
only to be broken by the disappointment in his eyes
Her regret poured out like rain
that would not pause,
for that missed science fair
and the birthday he didn’t call.
The Christmas that he left
and the spring he came back,
You walk through the door
Just leave once again.
Side by side,
you have the same nose
and your eyes are alike,
Because the first man a girl loves is her father.
This one’s for the father I never had.