Bayani

hello papa, 

hasn't it been a long time 
since we talked?
do you miss me?
it's okay if you didn't,
not many do.

do you remember those days
when we went by 
that roundabout where 
the fountain flowed?
the golden shimmer of the lights
always fascinated me,
but i remember the lines
of your sad smile
that got reflected in the frothy water.
that sad smile, what was it?
did you regret hitting mama?
but you wouldn't have smiled then, right?

do you remember 
how you took me around the city, 
with you holding the handles and 
me sitting behind you
on our shiny red two wheeler?
we passed by the crowded malls,
the golden fountain and the construction sites.
remember how you told me
to shut my eyes and count to ten
whenever dust invaded your nostrils?
i felt the orange glow of streetlights
on my shut eyelids as we sped past

and thought that you were my hero.

oh, do you remember those late nights in McDonald's?
all my friends love Burger King and KFC 
but do Burger King and KFC serve you such superb softies?
the vanilla kind with chocolate sheets on top?
i still have the chocolate stains on my old t-shirts.
things were so much fun back then, papa.

do you remember how 
you always brought chocolates for me
every time you went out of the country?
i don't say anything to you anymore, 
but i kind of miss that.

i miss how you fought 
with my uncle for the remote.
you always wanted to watch the news 
with me perched on your shoulders; 
he always wanted his action movies.

papa, do you remember 
that you lovingly called me 
a crazy girl with wild hair
whenever i cried for no apparent reason?

do you remember 
your signature white handkerchief
that you always got for movies,
on the days you went overseas
and when you met my teachers?

will you never call me bayani again?
is my hair too orderly now? 
am i too sane?
will you never give me your white handkerchief?

i miss you, papa.

picture credit: the person who this is addressed to.