An Ode to Your Absence

A Poem by Mariah

When people ask,
Who’s you father?
I say…
Your guess is as good as mine
Seems to me this man just showed up outta the blue
Which is surprising considering I haven’t seen him since I was two
…Or was it three, four or five?
To be honest I lost track of time-confused by all his lies

The better question is does my father know me?
Because all I remember is his anger and his absence
Quick to anger
With swift fists
Only it wasn’t just me, he went through the whole damn family
And we learned pretty quickly how to hide the marks even those that turned to scars
But no amount of concealer or cover-up could ever touch the pain we held in vain

So I wonder, does this man know me?
Doubtful considering I haven’t seen him since I was two
…Or was it three, four or five?
Either way this little girl
Is all grown up, father aside

And I used to count the times he’d call
Which became harder and harder since it wasn’t much at all
And every time it began with a casual greeting followed by silence

“Hello-how are you?”
“Pretty good even though you left me at two, or was it three, four or five?”
“Anyways, what have you been up to these days?”
“Since you last saw me, I grew a few feet taller and a little bit smarter.”
“Glad to hear you’re doing well…well I’m pretty busy so I have to go.”

Now that’s a familiar line
I know it all too well
So busy that he forgot birthdays, holidays…****, maybe even that he had a few kids to raise?
Man if only we all could forget so easily, have such a selective memory
But one day my anger also turned into swift fists
Aimed at suppressing the pain until I spiraled down an emotional abyss
The universe tellin’ me it was time to submit

So no more watching the clock
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Hopelessly waiting as time slowly passed by
Taking with it my hopes and dreams
That you’d be by my side
Tucking me into bed and saying goodnight
No, that ship has sailed and is long gone

So when people ask,
Who’s your father?
I say…
Your guess is as good as mine
Time passed so quickly in his absence
Maybe his presence was just a dream