I typed up on Google,
What makes a dad?
I directed myself to sites, on sites, on sites
And every time
Every website
Every page
The nothingness that you are was hiding
I was troubled by your talent, the talent of you cloaking yourself in QR Codes
How you weren’t poppin’ up at every link
How I was left wondering whether anything would match your description
I typed up on Google,
Dad
This time I’d be sure to find you
Find something that’s real
Something that’s worth smiling about
Still I was left empty
Sweeping past the computer bug I called hope,
Letting my chest drop and resting my head on my neck
The next day
I returned to my schedule of DAD
In hope of cementing the parts that weren’t right
And here I was
Shoving websites down my throat
Overdosing on what I wanted a dad to be
So I typed up on Google,
How to fix my dad
How to make a tag
So when you go missing I’ll be able to find you
Help you understand where you needed to be
Help you realise that happiness was in the broken walls of our family,
In the ripped clothes that hides our nudity,
In the poverty of our smiles
But I was wrong
I was muddled up by the virus that you were and the syntax error that you turned out to be
I was so wrong
I didn’t need a dad
No,
I’m sorry
I didn’t want a dad anymore