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,


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


I’m sorry

I didn’t want a dad anymore

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