It's who they are.
My fathers blood
Is in the bathroom sink again,
He avoids stitches.
I didnt cry this time,
I didnt cry the last time either.
Its a combination of the issues.
I cant take care of someone
Who constantly denies my help.
Veronikas, Melbourne, a different course,
Anything to get away.
A committed choice-less interpreter
The only thing Im good for,
Translating every word in an instruction manual
What a gift.
Nothing is ever right.
They never point out any good things,
They only comment on the bad.
Im not the only one to think so,
Shes just as powerless as me.
Though she can avoid them,
She doesnt see them every day.
I should go to places and learn things.
I should get a job and buy myself a house.
Then I should but them a house and a couple of cars while Im at it.
Maybe I should rob a bank
To solve all their problems.
After all, Im not the one afraid of doctors.
Falls and cuts,
I dont want to see my fathers b