Going to call this "Nurture"

  
my father taught me    
that when your tummy hurts there  
you need to shit  
even if you don’t feel like you do  
your body needs it out, so    
you sit there and wait  
he showed me how to fold towels    
so the seams sit nice  
don't roll the vacuum cord criss-cross    
less tangles  
put the pan on a low heat    
so the white cooks slowly  
leaves the yolk runny enough for toast  
he read Tolkien and Ludlum aloud    
while we coloured in  
did the Gollum voice    
for giggles at bedtime  
   
he waited til  
I was at summer camp    
to leave  
told me    
it wasn’t my fault,    
which I knew, I saw    
how demanding she could be  
didn’t change  
that he never called    
   
i grieved him for a year  
as if he’d died  
huddled up foetal in corners  
gut wrenched sobbing middays  
permanent butterflies    
turned rabid  
at night especially  
burrowing through    
the lining of my stomach  
he never called  
   
my anima plummeted    
from a height    
little girls don’t know exist  
while he found love again    
and bought a house  
got a dog with her  
   
eventually    
we were invited to visit  
my brother and i  
three years later    
after having plowed through    
whatever typical stages of grief    
i’d recalibrated my worth by then    
was a fucking delight  
a problem to no one  
low maintenance  
followed Jesus close    
see, maybe God would think  
a girl could be as worthwhile    
as a boy  
no needs but yours    
because if i have them  
they’ll be too much    
   
and i’ll drain your joy  
and you’ll leave  
and you’ll never call