Dec 2018
18
I pack the last box onto the truck,
from a half empty house,
that no longer feels like a home
17
We only see each other in passing,
even though we live a room apart,
16
We start to grow apart,
We barely even see each other anymore,
much less, talk to each other,
15
Maybe one day we can get over this and move on,
It'll take some growing up for me,
and we will need to be there for each other to do it,
14
I stand under a tree in a field sprinkled with snow,
I've already thrown my backpack as far as I can in anger,
I've already heard the 3 words you've cried to me as we both got home,
"Tyler, Daddy's dead."
13
There's a new development in our house,
a hole in the wall the size of a fist,
You gather your things and walk down the street,
not even sober enough to drive,
but you're back at the house the next morning
My mother sips the word
"divorce"
her mouth curls at the taste
like it burns going down.
She's tired of the fighting.
12
I've come up with this theory that my father started drinking again
because maybe I'm such a disappointment in his eyes,
Like if he could make everything else blurry,
maybe somehow I'd look normal.
11
My father sits in a bathtub all day,
doing his own method of detox,
my mother tends to him,
we all support him,
maybe the third time is the charm,
11
I blame myself.
11
My mother blames herself.
11
My brother blames my father.
10
The only things I notice in the house are the PlayStation and my other toys,
My family is happy, and that makes me happy.
9
My father doesn't drink as much
as the rest of my aunts and uncles at Christmas and Thanksgiving,
It doesn't mean anything to me,
I just know
we don't even think about it.
8
7
6
I wanna be Spiderman.
Or my dad.
They're kinda the same thing.
5
4
3
I have a nightmare.
I get into Mommy and Daddy's bed,
Stuffed animal in hand.
Daddy isn't there,
I get up to go look for him,
Daddy's standing in his underwear
silhouetted by the refrigerator light.
He raises a bottle to his lips.
2
1
0
When my mother was pregnant with me
I wonder if she hoped,
like so many mothers do,
that her baby boy
would grow up to be
just,
like,
his,
father.
I pack the last box onto the truck,
from a half empty house,
that no longer feels like a home
17
We only see each other in passing,
even though we live a room apart,
16
We start to grow apart,
We barely even see each other anymore,
much less, talk to each other,
15
Maybe one day we can get over this and move on,
It'll take some growing up for me,
and we will need to be there for each other to do it,
14
I stand under a tree in a field sprinkled with snow,
I've already thrown my backpack as far as I can in anger,
I've already heard the 3 words you've cried to me as we both got home,
"Tyler, Daddy's dead."
13
There's a new development in our house,
a hole in the wall the size of a fist,
You gather your things and walk down the street,
not even sober enough to drive,
but you're back at the house the next morning
My mother sips the word
"divorce"
her mouth curls at the taste
like it burns going down.
She's tired of the fighting.
12
I've come up with this theory that my father started drinking again
because maybe I'm such a disappointment in his eyes,
Like if he could make everything else blurry,
maybe somehow I'd look normal.
11
My father sits in a bathtub all day,
doing his own method of detox,
my mother tends to him,
we all support him,
maybe the third time is the charm,
11
I blame myself.
11
My mother blames herself.
11
My brother blames my father.
10
The only things I notice in the house are the PlayStation and my other toys,
My family is happy, and that makes me happy.
9
My father doesn't drink as much
as the rest of my aunts and uncles at Christmas and Thanksgiving,
It doesn't mean anything to me,
I just know
we don't even think about it.
8
7
6
I wanna be Spiderman.
Or my dad.
They're kinda the same thing.
5
4
3
I have a nightmare.
I get into Mommy and Daddy's bed,
Stuffed animal in hand.
Daddy isn't there,
I get up to go look for him,
Daddy's standing in his underwear
silhouetted by the refrigerator light.
He raises a bottle to his lips.
2
1
0
When my mother was pregnant with me
I wonder if she hoped,
like so many mothers do,
that her baby boy
would grow up to be
just,
like,
his,
father.
