My Made of Movies Dad

my dad,

was my superhero—

not because he did something great,

he never understood me and he had a terrible job; he was my superhero because he was there when I had to cry, he was there when I needed to have a good time, he was my father and I was proud to call him that.

But I was living in a movie.

Overtime I witnessed the death of my superhero,

as he drank to numb the pain,

lost in an illusion,

no longer here with me.

I no longer recognized him,

he was not my father...

and now,

without thinking really hard,

I forget that I even have a father.

i don’t know who my father really is.

like the movies,

I hope this story ends with happiness

(but I know it will never truly happen).