I stand and watch the garbage man
As he grabs them
Something catches my attention
I watch my mother throw away
The lamps my father gave her.
Black metal with glass panels
Taken out.
They move one
And I turn back inside

"I believe in family curses."
She says.
Could this be ours?
As I hold my love, I wonder
Ponder
On how similar our relationship
Is starting to look
To theirs.

"You wanted to lose something you've loved for 99% of your life."
He tells her.
Could this possibly
Be my soul desire as well?
Or am I just caught
In the energy?

"Some kids want to fix their relationship
With their 'bad' parent
That's why they look for them
As partners."
Am I stuck in this hidden mind frame?
What if I oppose it?
People like my father
Cannot be changed.
But then again
Neither can you.

"I am nothing like him."
You command me.
The anger flows out of your eyes.
I no longer tell you this
Because it makes you angry
Just like her
Hiding things from him

So I quietly hold you
And wonder
If someday I will be
Throwing out the lamps
You have given me.