Like father Like Son

most of the time we try to forget
I’ve gotten very good at not staring things in the face,
reality versus dreamland, spent seven days sleeping on and off on and off
whole summer dreaming
whole waking hours too tired to kill myself more
than an occasional cigarette, occasional speeding , an occasional drink
I hate being drunk
the fear is good for me, cloudy eyes and messy thinking, slamming into the walls
sleeping in an empty house does things to me
sleeping in a full house makes me regret breathing

most of the time I feel like my life has a fast expiration date.

shoulders are fading faster than my resolve,
but I hate the way his breathing catches when he sees,
like a fast stop light when you’re going ninety,
most of my decisions involve wanting to disappear after I make them,
don’t think anything is right, these days
whirlwind sandstorm of an emotion,
people say that I am bad at asking for help-
I say that I am bad at dealing with reactions,
or feeling like I owe someone
I am too much my father
too much proud too much

still never quite enough.