he always raised a brow so whatever i said seemed absurd, he said why don't you write a real story, because i'm not good at makin shit up dad.
say, i feel, not you make me feel, own your feelings, dude.
i feel stupid around my dad even though he's dead.
i'm grown, i know, it wasn't intellect but arrogance,
money patriarchy power,
i grew small
and spoke ill
on his birthday
it's my fault
still.


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