The Last Daughter

The Last Daughter

By Micaela Bicknell

The sky has been dark for many years.

You were gone from my life before I was born,

and love was not an option.

Accusations flew,

resentment hides,

to fester and wait for primetime.

A child waits eagerly for hugs

and kisses goodnight, ones that will

never come. Lovely reddish brown curls

haphazardly separated into two uneven

pony-tails.

Soft flannel pink night gown

covering from neck to ankle,

sitting cross-legged,

ears straining to hear footsteps

on the stairs.

Pillow full of tears,

heart full of hope,

this little girl fears,

that life is just a joke.

A girl is to adore her father,

and become her mother.

This fate was escaped

on a hot August night,

still clinging to the hope,

that it would end all right.

Joyous cries

Love, hugs, goodbye.

Hate, seething anger

ever since that awful

morning in June.