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oh, family. where did you go? i see faces. with noses carved like mountains. freckles like sun spots on dirt. they look like mine. i hear names. last names that bring us together, that bond us before we are born. We Belong Together, they say. because your father and my father, were once little boys together. who once listened to the same mother scold, preach, gossip. i feel what i do not know to be a family. behind veiled smiles there are eyes which won't speak the truth. our family, whom we do not choose, whom we are stuck with through thick and thin, force us to make friends where friends might not be. through struggle, endurance lives. but am i better because of it? because you do not call, in the middle of the night i remember semi-real memories of children playing together. I wonder if it meant anything to you. We are grown, and I do not know if you are in your time of need, because our fathers who lived in the same rules by which we were raised taught us only of salt seeping, stinging into familial wounds. we are family. who send postcards at christmas with plastered smiles, warm wishes, and false invitations to narrow the distance between us. in the first world, brimming with opportunities, where is a family? where is that thing you search for in your sleep that makes you want to do more? Post a comment in response: |
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