i, you, & them

dad

i'm home with my father in the city
conjoined with his silence and overall, peacefulness
the complete opposite of the buzzing buildings
and his wife
he comes home tired, wonders if his children are even worth working for anymore
a daughter who refuses to help around
a son who refuses to grow up
and another girl who refuses to keep up
i suppose they are enough to drive a man insane
but he keeps his calm mostly, and i wonder sometimes
if this isn't the family he had in plan
as he climbs into bed with the soft wafts of jasmine and mint
to help him fall asleep

he's told me sometimes that he's proud of me
the best girl he ever had and
well, it's nice to be acknowledged
but i can't look past the expectations
the anxiety of doing the bare minimum because
it is what my body is accustomed to
i'm not the same person as i was young
i think he knows that, but he keeps his hopes up
i want to gently tell him to stop

i think i'll be a disappointment to him some day
maybe i already am
the same rotten fruit from the three
only this time, i dragged it out
gave him the benefit of the doubt
i wish i could apologize to him sincerely for it
i'm not living long, dad, it's just the way it is
call me selfish and spiteful, but i hope he knows
i love him nonetheless
the first man i learned to understand what love is
what dangerous love is
he's as broken as i am