i cry at weddings,
though i will try all i might to not admit it
as if it is a fault of mine

turn my head away to hide the tear shed,
catch the drop faster than it dare fall
swipe at my eyelashes,
blame heavy mascara i am not used to wearing,

not possibly the sight of a father
with his daughter’s arm wrapped around him
down the aisle and him looking so proud
that she is in love

i cry with all the hope that my father’s eyes
will still look at me with pride someday