longer.blue

A letter to My absent Father. Solo for @waywardfather.bsky.social I used to be your little girl. Before the hunting, the running and seemingly endless car rides in tense silence, I was yours. I used to be precious and delicate, something worth protecting. Now I know how to protect myself because you taught me the world isn't kind, and the monsters under my bed are real. You used to smile at me like the sun, your laugh would rumble against my cheek as you held me close to your heart. You used to love me, and I know you still do somewhere deep down. You wouldn't have taught me self-defense if you didn't. Wouldn't have told my brothers to keep an eye on me, and let me have the bed farthest from the motel door, if you didn't. Somewhere along the lines, your care turned to discipline. Hard and careless for the softness you once protected. To fight is to survive, and you didn't want to outlive your children. That, I understand. But somewhere along the lines you lost what you tried so hard to defend. I love you, nothing can change that, but I hated your wrinkled brow and sneer. I hated the bark of orders that dictated my every step. I hated who you became and what you did to us. I used to be your little girl. Now, I am a soldier.