Father’s Daughter

i’ve never seen my father cry,

the only time i see the slightest tears in his eyes is when i look into my mirror

i’d hate to say he’s my reflection because

even though i’m my father’s daughter, i’ve put in the work to be nothing like him;

i try to think of others, not just myself

i let people talk about their feelings without them feeling as if they walk on eggshells around me

i withhold from clenching my fist in rage, i then let my hands be held instead

i don’t blame others for my mistakes, i take ownership and work towards improving

and i let myself be loved, i don’t push others away

so the truth of the matter is, i’m his identical image

but always moving in the opposing direction

he reaches for me with his right hand, and yet i reach for him with my left.