The poet

My friends love to make fun of me for this, but I'm different. No, I am not trying to be quirky or special or whatever; I am actually different.

That was just a side note, to help prepare for what I am about to tell you. The second side note is that I HATE parties. I mean absolutely despise them. I have a no party rule. It's not like I'm antisocial, I just do not like them. I actually love going out, and being around people. Parties, not so much. My friends on the other hand.... Let's just say put booze and plastic cups in a room and they'll be there.

Now, let's go on to the most embarrassing day of my life. The day I was dragged to a party. I actually have to stop calling it a party, because this was not like any party I have ever and will ever go to. Let's just say my dad took "busting your kids at the party" a little too far.

Let me give context on my dad. Everyone knows him. He's also a party guy. Always wild, always fun, always the center of attention. And always my friends crushes. Lets all give a big sigh to the cliché that could have been my life, but my dad's "secret" ruined it.

Daddy issues aside, where was I? Oh yeah, let's get back to the most embarrassing day of my life. My friend, Mark, calls me. He has always been the sweet type. You know the kind that doesn't force you to go to parties? But he calls me and says, "I am forcing you to go to this party". So I say, as anyone would say, no. "Did I ask? No. You are coming to this party, and I will drag you out of your house." He demands. He tells me the time, place and that none of our friends were coming. Which didn't surprise me. Mark hasn't been on the best terms with them lately.

The time was 5 pm. Which confused me more. I really did not know why a party started this early, but why not. I start to get dressed at like 4. I do my hair, makeup and wear a casual dress. I like getting dressed up I have to be honest. Its something about the power you feel knowing you look breathtaking that captivates me. And the attention. I have to be honest I love attention. I take after my dad in that.

I drive over to the place and get there a little after 5. I walk up the stairs and I can hear faint jazz music. Jazz? That is so weird? Who listens to Jazz? I walk into the apartment and the first thing I find is food. I am instantly much happier to be here. Mark is already there sitting at a couch. He waves at me to come. I notice that there are a lot of been bags and chairs and couches all facing a makeshift stage. The stage had a mic and a chair. "Welcome!" Mark says with a grin,

"To the open mic!". An open mic? As a poet, and a daughter of a poet, I have always loved open mics. I have never had the courage to actually go to one. I love attention, but once it gets personal and deep? Anxiety. "Since when do you do poetry?" I asked. "For a while, but the others would judge so I kept it to myself" he replied shyly.

We sit for a while and listen to the different pieces. "When will you go up?" Mike asked. "You know I can't perform" I answered. "Oh c'mon you have to" he nagged. "I will literally kill to see you preform." I didn't answer. I really want to... but what if I mess up... what if I suck... what if I stutter?

So I can lead you with every thought I had between then and my final decision and I would exceed every wordcount any medium has to offer. Lets move forward.

I finally decide to do it. Yes yes I know, wow so brave. But I really was terrified. So when they call for someone to preform, I stand.

Mark beams at me and they all clap as they do before any performance. And I decide to go ahead. I will now "bore" you, my wonderful reader, with my amazing poem, that the irrelevant opinion of an irrelevant man will state: "sucked".

*I Awkwardly gaze at the crowd*

*Squints although there is no spotlight.. like a moron*

"Hey, this is a poem I wrote about my dad (*cue the why would I say that wince*)

I do not know what to think

Plain and Simple

They push and push me to the brink

Yet I never fall

Yet somehow I've been in the water this whole time

He tells me

Why do you cry

As if he did not stab me

In more places he ever held

He tells me

Why do you leave

As if he did not push me

Out of his life

He tells me

Why do you run

As if he did not help me tie my shoes

And open the door

And tell the sun never to set

So I always see why to leave

I am tired

Plain and Simple

He plants this fire in my soul

I am left to be both

The flames and the sand

Left to burn or die

He tells me

Why do you sleep

Instead of coming to meet

What we could have had

I reply

Because it has always been a could"

Everyone claps, as they should, except one (really annoying man). "Well that SUCKED" he shouts. Everyone is kind of in shock, because he is wrong obviously. They all stare at this early 20s, tan, blonde haired, man; who is clearly very upset by my poem.

"That's because its about you.." I reply obviously mad. Now the crowd is very confused. Because the poem is about my dad, and he is about my age. How? Well ladies and gentleman, he is my dad.

Now this man has the AUDACITY to come on to the stage and keep going. "I taught you better than that sweetie. I am sure you can come up with better, considering it is in your blood." he claims. "I can yeah, but not for you" I say, very mad. "Is that the way we talk to our old man?" he asks with a smirk. Now I am really mad. "I'd like to see you give a better poem" I shout. Big mistake on my part. Thankfully he declined, and suggested a different idea. "How about I say a line and you have to match it, then visa versa" he suggests.

Then the lamest rap battle occurs. And the whole crowd still lost it. Because to them its a 21 year old girl doing poetry with her 25 year old? dad? I know weird.

Anyways it goes like this. I will go M for me and A for him.

A: I have a very ungrateful daughter

M: Who he hasn't seen in years, what a shocker?

M: All she's ever wanted was a father

A: But when I'm in town she cant be bothered?

A: Anyways I think she doesn't understand her luck

M: Actually I just don't give a -

And we'll stop right there....

the battle goes on for about 10 minutes. And all the crowd gathered is that he is never there, I hate him for it, and apparently he thinks being a part of this family is royalty.

Now let us get to the fun part? Oh, there isn't one.

Actually what happens next is kind of annoying. My dad literally goes "I swear you and your siblings are so ungrateful, I love the company of mortals, but you lot never bother giving me company in the first place."

Anyways this definitely confused the crowd. Wait? You must be confused too !! I completely forgot to mention who my dad was. Damn I must have sounded extremely ominous. You see, my dad is the God Apollo.