The Captain's Daughter.

You’re born a daughter.

It’s supposed to be forever.

But now I’m not.

Now I’m something else.

Something lost between what was and what will never be.

I am the captain’s daughter,

but my captain is gone.

And I’m still here,

trying to breathe through a storm

that refuses to calm down.

I watched you fight, Dad.

I saw the pain behind your eyes.

The kind that doesn’t show up in pictures

or small talk

or birthday phone calls.

You were tired.

And I tried to hold you above the waves,

but I wasn’t enough to keep you here.

I used to tell you I wished I could take your pain.

And I did.

Every ounce of it found its way into me

the day you left.

Now I carry what you couldn’t anymore.

The ache. The confusion. The weight.

It lives inside me now.

Why wasn’t I enough?

Why wasn’t my love reason enough to stay?

I ask myself that every single day.

Over and over.

Like maybe if I say it enough

I’ll get an answer.

I’m angry.

I’m sad.

I’m broken in places I can’t reach.

The world keeps spinning

and I want to scream at it to stop.

Don’t they know?

Don’t they know my dad is gone?

I feel like a burden now.

Like the weight I couldn’t lift off you

has settled on me instead.

I carry it everywhere I go.

In my chest.

In my dreams.

In the silence that follows your name.

You were supposed to be unshakable.

My safe place.

The calm in the chaos.

But the storm won.

And now I’m out here,

lost at sea,

angry at the water,

angry at the sky,

angry at myself.

I miss you.

I need you.

I still look for you in every sunrise,

every wave,

every day.

I’m still your daughter,

even if I don’t know what that means anymore.

Even if you left me to figure it out on my own.

Even if I’m a mess of love and guilt and anger.

You were my everything.

And now I’m just trying to survive

in the space you left behind.