The Space He Never Filled

There’s a silence louder than screams,
A hollow carved into my dreams.
A chair at dinner, always there,
But no soft words, no loving care.

He walks the halls, but not my mind,
Leaves no warm memories behind.
His eyes, like doors forever closed,
A love I guessed, but never knowed.

He gave me name, but not a voice,
He stayed, but never made the choice
To see the child behind my eyes
To hear my laughter, fears, or cries.

I learned to braid my tangled hair,
To fake a smile, pretend not care.
My trophies, tears, my growing pains,
He missed the sun, ignored the rains.

And still I crave
what never came,
A whisper soft, or proud acclaim.
A “well done,” “I’m here,” a nod, a cheer
A father's love I never hear.

But I am more than what he gave,
Not just the echo of his cave.
I stand, I rise, though roots run dry
A daughter growing toward the sky.