"What are your parents like?"
He asks me, seriously as he plays the piano
I let the sweet noise embrace me
Before answering
"My mother is quiet
But she is one of the most caring people I know."
He smiles that radiant grin
"You must get it from her."*
I shoot him a sarcastic smirk
And he knows exactly what that means
"And my father..."
Hm, what should I say about Daddy Dearest?
Family problems aren't exactly a turn on
Should I outline the fact
About how he is a big reason I began to purge?
Should I broach the topic
Of my fear of gaining weight and eating sugar?
Because he tells me I will get fat
And acts like nobody can love a fat girl.
Should I bother mentioning
That he holds my sister on a pedestal
And sees me as a lost cause?
So I respond, calmly and sincerely
"He's great."
And we laugh, enjoying my "perfect" life
Marching into our pseudo-sunset
As I hope secretly, silently
That he never asks about my family
Again.