I don't know how much of a poet I am....actually I'm not even sure how much of a writer I am....I find myself drifting back and forth betweent modes of communication...which will fit best, which will express me the best...who knows. After a while though, I figure somebody will come around and tap me on the shoulder and whisper to me exactly where I'll fit. This is actually from something I wrote for a short story....it may not be poetry per say....but it is the poetic stylings of my soul or at the very least the creative outcome of my attempt at literary expression: From her position on the couch Amelia’s wide eyes beg me to take the offer, to accept this olive branch and give her an excuse to continue leaning on mom’s shoulder. They both sound earnest, as if my position in our family unit is so vital that it could all crumble without me. Funny thing is that I was always made to feel the absolute opposite my entire life. I never thought I’d be in this position. I have the power to give the thumbs up or the thumbs down. The poignancy of this turn of events feels bitterly satisfying. For the first time I’ve got all the control and it only took my parent’s downfall to get it. They’ve given me the sway I’ve always wanted, but then screwed me over by placing the entire fate of our family in my hands. It’s a power with consequence, and I’m liable to throw caution to the wind and **** it all up for everybody. I’m in a kamikaze state of mind. However beseeching their speeches are, or how enthusiastic they are to find a mutually beneficial resolution I cannot seem to feel pity or forgiveness. I want to feel for them, but I can’t, at least not wholly. I realize that they are my parents, but they look like strangers. I see the physical attributes, the eyes, lips, and hair, but I cannot feel the soul of my parents. I don’t feel a bond, a resounding familial affection. I’m reluctant, but even more so I am unmotivated. Nothing about keeping this family together excites me. We’re a lost cause. There seems very little to salvage. The love I felt from either one of them has always been halfhearted if not completely unenthused. Maybe we just need to self-destruct. Or maybe I just need to make my walking away sound pretty, poetic and valid. All I know at this moment is that we are not, and cannot be a family. The basic ideology of familyhood has been trampled upon, and I cannot find it in myself to put it back together with ill fitting tape and crazy glue.