This Daughter’s Life

There was no phone call to make
No nostalgic pictures to post.
There was only an empty longing
For that which I wanted most.

No phone call.
No pictures.
No reading of scripture
Will ever undo the hate with which your
So called love used to hit her.

There was no phone call to make.
No nostalgic pictures to post.
There’s only the painful memory
Of how your love hated me the most.

No pictures.
No phone call.
No good remembrance at all
To mark this day as a good one
Nor to celebrate my total recall.

There was no phone call to make.
There is nothing that I could take.
There is nothing but pain in your wake
Shattering and combing like a rake.

There were no nostalgic pictures to post.
Only the sadness caught in my throat
No happiness on which to gloat
No celebration of the one who broke
This daughter’s life.