stockholm syndrome

stockholm syndrome

the words are jarring as they reach my ears

like cymbals crashing together out of rhythm

loud and shocking, like I've never heard them before

it sounds wrong wrong wrong

that couldn't possibly be it

he's my dad, it's not like that at all

is it?

maybe I wasn't held captive 

but maybe I was beholden to affection and love

corrupted by a twisted desire to gain approval and respect

I spent my childhood flinching away from a fist

fearing the hand that hurt me but loving it all the same

and now I look for love in the arms of a man almost twice my age

searching for that same acceptance in all the wrong places

and yet I adore him still

he is selfless, and kind, and loving, and thoughtful

but he has a mean streak

one that sometimes overshadows the man that I know

daddy's little girl is all grown up

and maybe she sees what was wrong all along