The First Man

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,

What for,

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.