each time you tell me I have anger issues
I am six years old again
in my car seat as you drive to "get ice cream"
so you can swear about Mom
& yell at me for playing with my window.
I was naive enough to think that my middle-aged father
was asking for marriage advice.
Now I flip other drivers off
in the same car you would lock me in
I slam the keys of the piano
I hid under when Mom threatened to leave
I hate Mom as much as you do now
if not more
because she says I'm just like you
so tell me I have anger issues, Dad
I ******* dare you