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Memories,
my memories bring me back to a life with,
something I cannot revisit.
Like the sign in our rear view mirror,
no image,
just iron bars.
We missed it.
My memories aren’t what they used to be.
Promising that I’ll be different,
that I will not be like him,
I will not be like them,
but their blood is rooted deep.
I can’t imagine what life would be if I wore different genes.
I only know this one,
I only know my misfortunes that have led me here.
To these pages that have me speaking my unfiltered truth.
Viewing the memories of my disgusting youth.
Staring at the reflection of my father.
Damn it I
- hate
you.
His youthful mouth mimics mine with remarkable tandem.
The more he stares back at me,
the more I can’t stand him.
My misery follows me into a thousand pieces,
shattered memories in broken shards
I hope I don’t repeat them.
Gabriel K. Jones 