my mother has a soft voice,
and what is soft is also fragile.
so when she was told that I am suicidal
I’m sure that her voice box shattered.
my father is bulky, and stocky,
but he is not strong:
he broke down when he found out about my depression.
but how can I be blamed for trying to mask this pain,
when my family taught me to play dress up my whole life?
when “how are yous” never sounded like genuine questions,
and “fines” never seemed to be genuine answers?
when mommy and daddy would scream at each other in the kitchen
while I would scream into my pillow?–
as I grew up, I grew accustomed to slamming doors and harsh words
but I did not know why our relatives were never invited over for Christmas
or why the sound of the ball dropping on New Years was all too familiar:
every fucking day felt like January 1st in my household…
I did not know that some parents actually kissed each other goodbye:
I was so naive back then
I have now callused with age
and I have held the burden of hatred on my shoulders for too goddamn long.
but I have never held love in the palm of my hand
Hell, I have never even seen it with my own two eyes
only divorce papers carelessly left out on the kitchen table.
I am exhausted from the animosity
and I just want to leave.
but I am scared to go,
because I know,
mom and dad won’t kiss me
before I say goodbye.