• Milly Tamati

Daddy's Little Girl.

Growing up, he called me 'girl'.

The first identity I knew

A gender; an annoyance.

Like a piece of gum, stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

His love language was screaming

Louder and louder he could roar.

'Bitch, stupid, worthless, cow'

Another beer he would pour.

"I'll pick you up at three", he said

My naivety, again hopeful for a Dad

Hours, cars and faces blur past

At least you can't miss what you never had.

You created a little human

But you couldn't love me

Am I faulty? Broken? Not pretty enough?

Would I be better if I were a 'he'?

You taught me the rules for how to treat a women

To throw your strength around wherever you can

Remind her that you are powerful, stronger and bigger

Dad, I now know; that makes you less of a man.

Daddy's little girl, they say.

Yet he closed the door, and left me in the rain.

With each drop dampening my self-worth

I decided I didn't deserve this pain.

Blood is thicker than water

And the greatest gift we have is family

Well, I call bullshit on this fairytale

I choose to let you go and now I am free.

Yet to cut you out is like a cancer

You've spread deep within my soul

Your words, taunts and rage still haunt me

The only way is to cut you deep and leave a gaping hole.

I am a woman now

Powerful and resilient in my own right,

The only trait I have inherited from you

Is my will to fight.

I'll never understand what I did wrong

But I have given up on trying to see

I hope one day you realise this is all about you.

And maybe you'll look back and wished that you had loved me.