I am a mess lately. Nothing is going right, and I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of bursting into tears. Today my dad said some things that really got to me, and I did just that...I had to get away and go drive, and I'm sure all the fellow Portlanders I passed thought I was nuts, sobbing by myself in my car. Growing up has made me realize how distant I feel from my parents sometimes, and how they've influenced me in both positive and negative ways throughout the years. I haven't written anything in a long time, but I felt like I had some pent-up feelings about this that I needed to release. I think the pen and paper will become my very good friend again, as I feel unable to talk to most of my friends.
This is my father-
He is angry, you can see it in his face
He yells at my brother and I
The fishing line has gotten stuck
We do not carry the knowledge that years of experience have provided him with
He is wearing a white Hanes t-shirt, the kind my mother buys him for Christmas,
And faded blue jeans, stained with hot hours of work
He is angry for a moment, then it is a joke
For now.
Here is my mother-
She is watching in silence
Sitting on the tip of her tongue are words that years of hurt and confusion have left unsaid
Marriage has taught her to ignore
She wears sweatpants that don't match her shirt
She motions to us that the barbeque is ready
She pretends everything is okay
She has forgotten how to be strong.
This is me-
I am squinting from the sun as my mother holds the camera
I am wearing a pink wool sweater, the kind my mother likes
I hate wearing them
My father is yelling in the background for me to get away from the water
I am forced to grow as they want me to
From life itself I will learn my good characteristics
The bad ones I will learn from them.
This is my father-
He is angry, you can see it in his face
He yells at my brother and I
The fishing line has gotten stuck
We do not carry the knowledge that years of experience have provided him with
He is wearing a white Hanes t-shirt, the kind my mother buys him for Christmas,
And faded blue jeans, stained with hot hours of work
He is angry for a moment, then it is a joke
For now.
Here is my mother-
She is watching in silence
Sitting on the tip of her tongue are words that years of hurt and confusion have left unsaid
Marriage has taught her to ignore
She wears sweatpants that don't match her shirt
She motions to us that the barbeque is ready
She pretends everything is okay
She has forgotten how to be strong.
This is me-
I am squinting from the sun as my mother holds the camera
I am wearing a pink wool sweater, the kind my mother likes
I hate wearing them
My father is yelling in the background for me to get away from the water
I am forced to grow as they want me to
From life itself I will learn my good characteristics
The bad ones I will learn from them.
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Any chance of that any time soon?