Adversely Growing Old

an icy fine powder
that made you lament
the days spent twisted
under the false ideology
that manliness is to be
confided in your
dead father.


the same icy powder
that engulfed you as well.
drowning the pan with choking
fried oils who,
even on their greatest day,
didn't know how to be anything else.
…i ate from you.


the gnarled nasty pit
that were your organs
heaved and wailed throughout
years of growing old.
i watched the both of you,
unknowingly ignorant,
morph into the sugar
dream ecstasy
humanoid parent


that tried, but not hard enough.
that were proud,
but overly proud,
because neither could fathom
a world
where hard work and communication
were equally shared among others.

if anyone were to understand
that fine icy powder’s power
it would be them.
the crystallized sensation that
they carry on their faces
and the words one could read
from their deafening
the paranoia


that one of you hid
and the other that stopped
the world from turning
only to wonder,
“why is the world turning?”


the ironic pairing
that fate or cupid
decided would make some laugh.


while skin was scratched
and fingers were plucked,
and coffee was sipped
and talkers were buzzed,


you two became hooked.
and all i inherit from this match
made in
a small white room
inhabited by sniffles
and smokes and
sour faced punks
who want a dose of
to send them back
on their way
to old habit alley.


all i inherit
is this slight stab
in my side
where bad nights
take the place of good ones.
and a rallying assumption
that a future like yours


might not
be so bad.


i inherit laziness
low expectations
ruined birthdays,
a depraved indifference


to mortality,
and an all too accepting
way to deny these habits.
the whole nine yards!


became attributes
to the weak.
it is in their hand tailored
anxiety ridden
fried out


and all i got
were those.

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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