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Dalilahshigaraki
I don't like being around my dad
Cause he made me walk the dog with him
And forced me to explain.
So I told him everything about Parker
And how he might never talk to me again.
I really hope he does,
Because I finally made him a name.
If Park never gets to hear it
I'll scream it in the rain.
Right now I'm hiding in my closet
Fighting an internal war.
It's me against anxiety-
My defenses suck so far.
I asked for life advice today-
It's rare I ask for help-
And it felt like I was given something I wanted:
Someone to listen to me.
My siblings hardly listen;
They hear and tone me out.
The last time my dad listened to me
He said he'd never accept my gender.
My mother acted like it was fine,
But if it was she'd never show me that stupid post-
A 'Why Gender Matters' post.
It was like a punch to the stomach,
Both of them being transphobic.
I came out at SIXTEEN-
That's a hard time to be alive.
Cause I also had depression,
Missing from 'home',
Parents searching.
Can't look back,
Now I'm running.
Sirens in the distance,
Calling me there.
I grin at the pitiful,
Attempt at care.
I don't give a damn,
If they say they love me.
When all is dark,
Their true feeling I see.
And I know I can't,
Go telling people.
Why do they need,
To see how I weaken?
i really wish that i thought my parents were superheroes
that they were good and invincible and
would save the day no matter what
but they've always just been people
civilians who gawk at evil plots and then go home
just to act like villains themselves
When you cheat on a test
or steal a little money
When you joke about others
and think it's quite funny
"Your parents didn't raise you properly."
When you grow up in the future
and maybe rob a bank
or vandalize a famous landmark
with graffiti on your hands
"Your parents didn't raise you properly."
What does that have to do with them?
Maybe they talked to me
maybe they shouted at me
Maybe they led by example
or just simply left me
What effect does that have?
I think you need to know
You say I'm old enough to understand
Yet you always say I'm too young
So don't tell me something
You think I'm old enough
To understand
Because you're confused
Make up your mind
Most likely
I don't understand
Or I just can't handle it
I'm that age
Where you step
On a thin sheet of ice
Every time you open your mouth
So do not tell me
BIGHEAD
it can war
with little pointed
cannibal teeth
it can make
hairs of people spring
it is frightening
close the door
it comes
screaming out of capture
it spys
smiling smiling lords
its fists
pound your furniture
parents
it is crazy
These are highlands, in a region of highlands, so
not especially notable. It takes a long
time to get there, though the graveled road
is short enough; park and walk -- not far,
but bring a lunch and water. Sign in; it's wilderness
according to the kiosk and its map.
Immediately you have shade. These are
Douglas fir, mountain hemlock, perhaps
some red cedar. Beneath, on both sides the trail,
a scattering of vine maple, ocean spray,
rhododendron, and, in the draws, willow.
Sometimes bear grass is in flower;
not this year. As late season turns, first
vanilla leaf, then devil's club, then red
huckleberry, then the blue, will shade through
gold to sienna to cranberry: cool nights.
Mainly the parents do not die.
They just feel lonely
when their children leave the nest,
and they start to miss their own parents.
They go to meet them
and forget to come back.
That’s all.
I was the only child of Frances Harris of Virginia
And Thomas Greene of Kentucky,
Of valiant and honorable blood both.
To them I owe all that I became,
Judge, member of Congress, leader in the State.
From my mother I inherited
Vivacity, fancy, language;
From my father will, judgment, logic.
All honor to them
For what service I was to the people!