Daddy’s Little Girl

Daddys Little Girl Liv Dayal KaurI liked him better before I knew him.

I liked him better when his language was whistling.

I liked him better when he made Lipton Noodle Soup on Saturday mornings.

I liked him better when he howled as we watched Tarzan.

I liked him better when he worked in a clothing factory.

I liked him better when he lived with his new girlfriend, Nixa.

I liked him better when he was drunk.

I liked him better when he was drunk in the morning.

I liked him better when he couldn’t make Lipton Noodle Soup anymore.

I liked him better when he fought with my mother. Violently.

I liked him better when he laughed at me for screaming when I found dead cockroaches in the hot cocoa he made me.

I liked him better when broke a pigeon’s neck just for being alive.

I liked him better when he hung my mother in front of us.

I liked him better when he called my brother “plomito head” (head full of lead). He has hydrocephalus.

I liked him better when I called him on my birthday and he told me to go fuck myself.

I liked him better when he called his new children stupid for not speaking (they were afraid).

I liked him better before he touched me.

 

 

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