I have a false sense about myself,
That is in making people think I'm happy sometimes,
when I'm really not.
And I hide behind my angery material because my soul is sensitive.....

I called my dad today and he didn't have much to say. Funny how sometimes I wanna talk to him so bad, but don't have much to say whenever I do. So convos are pretty much always the same ol same ol (hows david, hows your truck, what are you doing, did you see that movie yet). He never has much else to say besides those things...occassionally I get the bonus question of do you need anything? I hate that question.
Why ask if I need anything instead of just assuming that I do, and telling me you'll send me some money for books, shit TUITION (take your pick- Txstate or ACC), help pay a carnote, I'll even settle for gas money! I mean DAMN how is it that he can plan a trip to Japan for this Oct, get a corvette classic, buy a 2-story house in Colorado, and map a plan to getting a cruiser motorcycle...
But can't give me money for books, school, gas?
I wanna say all those things, but instead I answer his questions as I always do (he fine, it's good, I'm fine, not yet but I may BONUS: No I'm fine). I can't bring myself to tell him in my oh so blunt way:
"Nigga hell yea I need something! And by the way you SUCK for asking!"
And then list those things I need. Once tho I did say, well I need some money for books, and he burned me by telling me "my money kinda funny right now babygirl" making me hate that phrase.
So I depend on him for nothing, but want so much from him.
I wish he'd sometimes change up the questions at least and ask: How's the wedding plans going, Have you written any new poems lately, Have you started substitute teaching yet...any of which would be almost impossible because my dad doesn't know much about me.
He's only seen me dance professionally for the dance company once.
And about two weeks ago he saw one of my poetry performances for the first time on dvd...I'm not even sure if he even knew that I wrote poetry...but I'm sure he thought that that video was my first slam.

They say I look like him around my mouth and I act like him in my fists balled ready for motion to grace the knuckles. We have the same daredevil attitude and need for speed. I'm a competitive athlete, natural shit talker, and sarcasticlly blunt like him. My mom even told me that I got my love for pasta from him, will try any food-like him, and I cover my plate with my napkin after I'm done eating-like him.
The same curves that my letters make in script favor his...and I wanna write to him hoping that he'll see himself and beable to read through me (I'm fine).
If I'm so much like him then why can't he favor me?

David says that I'm a strong woman with a big heart not to hate my dad.
If I'm so strong, why do I often feel so weak when it comes to my dad?
And if my heart is so big, then why did I almost not go on that date with David when I found out that his name was the same as my dads?
Not really hard to answer that question...my David is better than that one could ever be.

I'm working on how to put this all in poem form, being vulnerable is harder than you think in some cases. Maybe I could start it like this:

Dear Dad,
Can you see me?