Things We Pass Down

There’s something deeply dark and shameful

about wanting to go home –

hating where you are

and longing to return.

 

When your family’s dreams were pinned

so quickly upon your hollow chest,

it isn’t easy to express

the true weight of regret.

 

Given to me was all that they had

to prepare me for success,

before they retreated

back to mediocrity and familiarness.

 

How was I to fulfill what you had not?

As the weakest of the unit –

the quietest, the runt;

not wanting to be seen or heard or even touched.

 

Maybe what you thought you saw within me

was never there at all –

a projection of your hopes

culminating in an anticlimactic downfall.

 

And maybe, it was never me to blame.

My great inheritance,

all along was within me –

unrelenting pain.