Big One-Eight.

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The day that lands on May thirteenth,

will be a very memorable one, indeed:

after all these years of waiting separately,

my little girl finally turns the ‘big eighteen’;

The anticipation that grinds behind her release,

is stuff that’s enough for the death of Yours Truly,

my heart pumps to keep up with the thumping beat,

but it’s barely enough to keep my blood flowing freely;

Her entire life, we’ve talked about its eventuality:

silly things she and I would do on this day, specifically:

create the biggest ruckus seen in recent local history,

roll around with the windows down in a rented limousine;

We’ve joked about obnoxious face paint we’d be wearing,

the gaudy jewelry that I brought to her from New Orleans,

spend hours doing nothing but her very favorite things,

truth is: I won’t even get to see her – and that’s our reality;

She will take her newly granted wish of finally being free,

and run with it as far and quickly in a direction away from me,

it might be years until I see her face again, if I’m so lucky,

her lack of any self-esteem or worth keeps her far, historically;

My little girl exists within a place that she can only be,

the pages of the Missing Persons reports, filed repeatedly,

the hours between the sunset and the next day’s dawning:

she’s in there somewhere trying to find any kind of meaning;

This day has long been a source of a most primal fear in me,

the burdens carried so long will either hold or break clean,

from the chains that have rusted around them quite solidly,

the very last of my chances to find the daughter that I seek.