Days.

Every day that I wake up, it's a gamble.
Will I be my Mother, or my Father today.
My Mother has daisies for eyes, and you should really see her dance.
On my Mother Days, I'm full of sunflowers,
I breathe rainbows and hand out harmonies like free samples.
My Mother gets paid to spend time in the clouds,
So on my Mother Days, I like to join her and take everyone else with me.
I swear to you, I've got wings and when they flutter
You can't help but mutter about all of the lovely in me.
I tend to radiate giggles, and if you ask me what I'd like to do,
I'd never be able to tell you.
On my Mother Days, I want to do everything.
Skip stones across the river of Styx,
and laugh in the face of Hades because,
Well, I'm no Persephone.
On my Mother Days, I'm Athena and Aphrodite's love child.
Glamorously Self-Governed and so full of desire,
and even more full of the will to achieve it.
Because my Mother can do anything.
And on my Mother Days, so can I.
But other days, other days I drag myself down.
My Father has eyes that have seen too much.
My Father wakes up with headaches.
And on my Father Days, so do I.
My Father drinks coffee without tasting it,
Takes pills without swallowing.
He throws Christmas trees into pools and watches Fox News.
He stashes guns in his closets and prays to the Founding Fathers.
My Father's Father was abusive physically.
My Father prefers the emotional route.
On my Father Days, I become a psychological murderer.
I become blind to reality and see only a tunnel vision of madness.
My Father's blood runs angry in his veins.
Angry at my mother for her success and happiness.
Angry at my brother for his success and wealth.
Angry at his daughter for not letting him get away with his crimes against her.
Angry at her the most.
And on my Father Days, I'm angry at him.
Angry at him for ruining any family we ever had.
Angry at him for making my 23-year-old brother cry.
Angry at him for exiling me from my own home.
Angry at him for taking bite-sized chunks out of my self-confidence and
Angry at him for choosing not to get help.
But angry at him most for constantly trying to straightjacket my Mother into submitting to his selfish need to be better than her. For turning her dreams into a nightmare. For making her home a dungeon, for alienating her family, for hating her daughter, for constantly trying to drag her down with him.
But she won't be dragged down.
And on my Mother Days, neither will I.
My Mother has the strongest soul that I know.
My Mother will make it through this.
Through him.
Even if I have to carry her.
Because no matter what day it is,
Mother or Father,
I want to be like my Mother.
Because my Mom is my best friend.
And more than anything,
I want to live my life like her.
Full of spirit and strength.
I want her blood to run through my veins.
I want it to overpower the anger, the hatred, and the betrayal.
But I know it will take time,
So for now, please bear with me.
Until my Mother Days become simply days.
Days with no name and no anger.
Days full of happiness and adventures.
Days where you don't see my resemblance to him.
Because hopefully someday, there will be none.