Dear Dad Poem by Brie Carter

I am not what you think I am
I am not the tall, forceful woman making the
Decisions o her own mind and body
I am a young girl takin advantage of
By the world in which I live
I am a victim of a complication of the brain
Not the complecation vitimizing you
I am neither the sticks nor the stones
I am the skinney bones you found me as
Because names and images can hurt me

I am not the cargo ship
I am the package that was enclosed,
Stamped, and shipped away
I am not the knife that cut into your finger
While you were preparing our food
I am the cucumber sliced into pieces

I am not the tornado
I am not the storm
I am the house spinning out of control
The windows drenched in rain

I am not the teacher
I am the student

Dad, I know that your blood vessels are enflamed
Your muscles frozen, when someon etries to hurt me
But enemies aren't always tangible

You once pushed me on the swings, but now
I have to make it to the top on my own
Dad, you have to guide me with the
Gentle warmth of your fingers wrapped
Around mine, not the forcefulness of your
Palms against my shoulders

Dear Dad, please continue to learn
How to love me
I love you