My Father's Daughter
It isn't about me.
It's about somebody I am not.
It's about him who sees in me a spark of what he once wanted to be. Who is my ultimate autodidact. Whose refractory spirits have always held me in goodstead. Who has given me much more than than the proverbial 'roots-&-wings'. Who has given me the sky, the wind, the soil, the strength to find my own directions, to grow wild-flower-ly, to fly fancy-free-ly. Who fights the big, bad wolves while I pick flowers in the wilderness.He's been in all my hardships and somehow rowed my boat through the stormy seas to the harbour each time.
That's why, I guess I've been content with what I have. I have let my men go to the sea, with this deep unrelenquished faith that they will come back home safe to me.
Someone once asked me.......... Why arent you possessive? Why have you been always so secure? Why do you love boys so much and get so easily hurt by them ? Why is deception so difficult for you to comprehend?
I've always had a father-figure. I've always looked for that secure warmth and comfort everywhere.. I have always trusted too much. I've always loved too much.
In so many ways than one, Im like my Papa, .... hopeless lil love sick angel with faith in happy endings!!!
Victory of the self is to cease to want to be like someone else. It is going to be tough to not want to be somewhat like him.
1 comment:
I remember you lke this. You were saner and better than. More like a baby. More lovable, more easy to understand. Think you do love and expect too much.. Trust, but not always good to keep blind faith. You're still your daddy's lil baby. Just time to grow up a lil now, don't you think so, my lovely child? my love puppet!
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