I am not emotionally charged right now, so I figure it would be a good time to start this.
First off, I would like to apologize for making you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me,
And for being so selfish, in it of that I can’t stand you.
Around you it feels less like eggshells and more like landmines.
My tentative feet take it step by step
Slow and patient until suddenly
It is a time trial,
A question? I better have an arsenal of accurate answers or I lose.
And when you say “JUMP,” I should already be in the air praying that it's high enough for you.
I am like you the same way a house cat is like a lion.
Same at the core
But divergent paths of evolution
Have left me standing at a far distance as
You, the King of the Hill, tear down all my hopes of getting a leg up on your high horse
They say we always hate the person that is most like ourselves, but I don’t HATE YOU.
How could I hate you?
We are both creatures of time and habit
A bit reclusive but Charismatic in the public eye
Little pet peeves and Broken volume knobs forever set to high
I can barely see myself in you
You, at the head of the table, laughing at how upset I am
And then continuing to poke “fun” at me
Because when I squirm
You tell me for the umpteenth time this week that I need to “get out there.”
And then lock me in this dungeon of a house to clean it spotless while you play your games.
You, eating late at night, and then hiding the evidence,
Leaving me to wonder where I left my birthday cake
I refuse to laugh at any pain because I know how badly things hurt
Intension means nothing if the effect is explosively damaging\
Damning me to a point of dependance where I can’t stop leaning on you,
And I won’t stop calling you “Sir”
I have had a fear of strangers ingrained in me from an early age
Ever since 9/11, I haven’t been comfortable enough to talk to house guests
Let alone order my own food
Yet every time I tell you about my paralysis,
You claim it is healthy
Heaven forbid I disrespect you, Sir
By asking who ate the last piece of cake
I tucked into the back of the fridge
Away from prying eyes and fingers
So I could enjoy my own birthday treat
After you ate all of yours
In less than a day
And it was my Therapist that told me to write this.
A letter I would never send
But not because I am afraid of offending you
But because I am afraid of what that Offence will sentence me to
In this house you are the Judge, jury, and executioner
Even your wife is tired of trying to be the defence in my case
So between Pseudonyms and cyphered distress calls ,
I am so sick of you trying me in double Jeopardy;
I am simply tired of trying
And while we both have short stature and fuses
Mine leads to a smoke bomb and yours is rigged to C4
I can barely managed to dodge questions, let alone get off of this crutch
Do you want to know what we have in common?
Distant Mothers and Angry Fathers
The need to break free from our gilded houses
A distinct yearn for rebellion,
A restricted need to obey
You’re a faded copy of your dad’s old tricks,
He did a watered down of his stepfather’s schtick
And quite frankly, I’M TIRED OF ALL THIS
But I don’t have your Guts or your Gall,
All I have is this steadfast, stubborn determination
To Protect and ready it all
With a stern refusal to lose this war.
Cause Just like Mulan this is a war worth fighting
They sent you a daughter when you asked for a son,
And despite the fact we are Japanese in heritage,
I’d rather dig to China than wait to see myself in your reflection
And I know that you “love” me,
And I know that you “care,”
But deep down, I know,
My place is out there
You haven’t failed me
You did just “fine”
I just refuse to live
In this field of Landmines
With all due Respect,
Your spitting image