you shared your dna
unintentionally creating me
and i loved you before i knew that truth
(that everyone else could see)

you chose the one from someone else
while someone else raised me 
and you left me poverty
while he had horses and was never hungry

and you waited til they thought i might die
to share your honesty, without responsibility
and no apology

and the midyear third sunday that should be
celebratory always finds me angry

even tho i say i wont be, i don’t want to be
i obsess over a memory 
that never was or will be
except in a little girls fantasy

of daddy and me