To the Father I Never Had

To the Father I Never Had

You were always a father,

never a dad.

A title without tenderness,

a presence without presence.

You gave me half my blood

but none of my belonging.

You left me with your anger

and your absence,

but never your arms.

I searched for you

in every shadow,

every laugh I didn’t hear,

every memory I should have had.

And I found nothing.