Your Little Girl?
I thought about you today
As I passed time in a cafe,
Cold earl grey tea untouched in front of me.
You seemed to enter each ordinary situation
And I could not help it
As I walked down the street,
Just another face in a pool,
A sess pit of
Eyes, lips and broken hearts.
My shiny new boots tapped along the pavement
Splashing up minute droplets of water,
The wind swaying my shell pink dress
Hanging below the line of my winter coat.
Perhaps it knew my secret thoughts...
Their unjust nature.
But somehow today that didn't matter to me
I still thought about you,
My steps unconsciously more confident.
I thought of your reaction if your eyes had fallen
Upon my unknown shadow.
Would you have thought that I was beautiful?
Did I carry the streets of my home city with elegance?
Would you have wished for me to be your daughter?
Be pleased if your little girl had grown up like me,
Even though you had not known?
Or perhaps you'd simply walk by
As I'm not that noticeable after all.
I suppose there's nothing special about this young woman
And her little fantasy.
But today there was still something in me that wanted to laugh,
To smile at this incredible sensation of power that tingled
Its way down my limbs as I changed streets
And glanced my eyes into shop windows.
It's strange really, I've never felt like this before
But for once I hold all the strings.
I could have passed you by
And you might have had some fleeting thought about me,
A stranger on a street corner.
You may have thought I was pretty,
But your wistful thoughts
Would have meant absolutely nothing because
You wouldn't know.
And I felt an awful, torturous kind of pleasure,
Almost the same as when I put my razor to my skin.
I never thought I wanted to hurt you
But it must be down there somewhere.
I wanted you to know me, to love the
Beautiful daughter that you wasted by choice
And crumpled like an empty wrapper.
But there was a secret thrill that my personality,
A vibrant human being was hidden in plain sight,
Perhaps a hundred yards down an avenue.
And that's my choice now,
I've taken it because you gave yours up.
I can flaunt it in front of your face
Without you even knowing.
That doesn't make me a very nice person does it?
I didn't mean to drown my soul in tears.
I'm still human somewhere underneath
And I can't get you out of my head.
I thought about you as I walked
Around the cathedral, as my candle became the latest
Among hundreds of others.
As I prayed and realised perhaps I own
A grain of compassion for you.
I can't find it's hiding place
But sometimes I feel it
Amongst the thicket of everything else.
I thought about you when I saw the Christmas tree,
As I wrote your name on a piece of paper and
Tangled it among the leaves.
I wondered if by chance you'd see it,
Nestled among other prayers for family far away.
Perhaps your eyes would fall upon it
And I wondered what you'd think?
Would you hold it,
Because this is the writing of your little girl?
Or would it mean nothing?
A pathetic attempt at hypocrisy
From someone who's scared of losing something
She can't understand.
Something that isn't really there at all.
I think about what might happen if you were well again,
If we met and you were not a monster.
How would I be a little girl and a grown woman
At the same time?
Am I allowed to do that?
But I want my Daddy.
I want him all the time
And today that's not you,
It's not someone you can ever be.
You can't satiate the craving in my bones.
It's such a terrible cocktail of compassion and hate.
Mercy and the desire to hurt you so much that you can't stand up.
And somehow I still want you,
Not even really you,
My perfect version of you.
So here I am again, thinking maybe this time it'll be ok,
It'll be different.
But it isn't.
The same stupid, filthy disappointment comes over me,
But I still think about you.
I wonder how you'd feel if you knew I was so close,
Would it torment you?
And now I'm back to hoping I'll pull your heart strings out again
But I'm past denying it all now.
I guess today I just got to thinking.
How you'd feel if you knew I'd come here today?
That you could have been a hair's breadth away
From who should be the most important person in your life,
That we're still under the same piece of sky canvas.
The stars above my head are the same ones above yours, too.
The small hours dwindle,
If you would still lie here awake thinking,