Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Or should I call you “John”? Or Jose? Or Jacques? I’d rather call you Jackass
But that’s all you left me with, a shoulder chip, a one liner that’s shit
Because that’s what I was raised with, knowing how a father should be
By watching Uncle Phil and Will, or the Cosby named Bill.
I found out what true family was by watching Friends
Even if seeing what I didn’t have left me with a couple more bends
And breaks, and cracks, and chips, and a fucking messed up disposition.


Was I really that bad, that terrible of news that you had to walkout?
As soon as mom said, “I’m pregnant” did you already know how I’d turn out?
When I need you most, when I was force-feeding myself pills
Or cutting my wrists because I didn’t like myself and shit.
Was the news that I was coming really the bad to you?
Honestly I just wanna know if you could ever love me
But I don’t give a fuck, same as you give about me


I can never say this to your face, I don’t even know your face
So I figured I’d write this poem because I want you know
That I don’t ever fucking need you, and I’ll never fucking be
Anything like you, because when my wife if giving birth
I WILL be right there by her side. I WILL be holding her hand
And holding our kid. And when I WILL be around, to film their
First walk, or the first time it talks, and we play ball, with a mitt
Or with princesses, I will be there the first time they enter
Elementary school, and when they exit high school with that
Stupid cap on their head and gown, with a diploma in their hand.
When They leave whatever college they want to go to, I don’t give a fuck
Where they go to, as long as I’m there, just like you weren’t.
And they’ll say, “I love you, dad” just like I couldn’t.