I remember knocking on your office door to bring you coffee or ask about work

The response was always the same

Another closed door and a scholding

But the next day I’d run back knocking

I defended you to my friends

Made them think you were the perfect father

Not the drunk one Coming home at four in the morning

Not the father who I’d hide from behind a locked door from

Not the father I had

I learned to play these games in my hard

I created versions of you who would hug me when I came to the door and push my hair behind my ears

You’d actually know how old I am

A father that would know how to fill out the questioner sheet at the doctors

But a frog will always just be a frog

Not a fairy tale prince

So I stopped knocking and learned to let the scilnce sing me to sleep