something about being out of the parents house…
hindsight sees better, the rear view mirror
shows objects closer than they appear,
how long should I be looking backwards for?
don’t forget to check your blind spots.

I was teaching my brother how to drive,
determined to be gentle, and as always
determined to be what my father was not.
“he’s doing better” my mother chides.
I am not as abrasive as I was once.
the river of the household
finally wore me down. I let my father,
his changes, and what continues
wash over.

the first time I buy my own bottle of liqour
it ends with my mother telling me
“don’t let this become a problem
because we can’t afford a good rehab”.
“don’t be like me” my father says
and he has said it a million times
as if I need telling. all my adult life
I’m doing surgery on myself
trying to remove the things he taught me.
to love the man
who made you,
who made almost everything you detest about yourself…
you need some amount of cognitive dissonance
and I feel these days I am
made of cognitive dissonance.

we are no longer just fucking.
we are studying and going to the movies
and you are meeting my friends
so I tell you what I really am
and what I’d really like you to call me.
we are entirely antithetical to each others natures
and you keep coming back and worse
I keep coming back.
we both need a dose of dissonance.
what you’re doing isn’t exactaly straight
and what I’m doing isn’t exactaly healthy.
but there’s other things to think about.

you say I drive too slow and
like I don’t know what I’m doing.
a couple times when you’re in my passenger seat
you start yelling and to you it’s funny
but to me it reminds me of the man I
love to hate and hate to love
who taught me to drive
right where you sit.
who has never really trusted me
with anything.
I almost want to pull over
and tell you get out
like he did when my brother and I
would get too loud in the backseat.
he didn’t really mean it,
it was just to scare us. I always knew
that he couldn’t go through with it.
Mom would get too upset.

but I continue to let you scrutinize me
secure in the fact that whatever you find
it won’t really matter
because were not really anything.