Pen in Motion

Someone else’s memories 

are in my head – 

has to be theirs, 

can’t be mine. 

It’s like I found this 

strange channel 

out there 

in the airways 

and I’m invading 

another brain. 

Right? 

That has to be it. 

There’s no way that was me.

Was I really that 

sad, 

stupid, 

shy, 

simple?  

Did I really make all those mistakes?

No way.

Can’t be me.

Has to be someone else,

and I feel really bad for that person.

“Father” – 

only one letter away 

from “farther.” 

Seems especially fitting now 

since that’s where 

you are – farther – 

away. 

From me, from here, from life. 

It’s not like we’ve ever 

been close, 

even when you were on Earth. 

Sometimes it was okay, 

and sometimes it bugged me to not 

be the one 

who had all the “dad” memories. 

But you were still Dad. 

My dad, by blood, 

and that had to mean something – right?

Plus you were the only one 

I ever had. 

I had some stuff that 

kept me close — 

crooked smile, early gray hair, long legs, 

weird sense of humor, 

and also 52. 

Now you’re farther away than ever, 

but at least you have 

someone to keep you company. 

Father. 

Farther. 

But not always. 

Let’s just pretend 

that nothing ever happened, 

since nothing 

has officially happened anyway. 

At least not on your end. 

It’s all me. 

I’m the one who noticed you 

and let myself think 

about the possibility of anything 

more than this 

pre-friend thing we have 

right now. 

Sure I want the friend part, 

but I also want more. 

Looking at you 

makes me think about that 

and I can’t help it. 

But right now, 

I’m ready to just say uncle 

and be done – 

because it’s also reminding me 

of those old scars 

that I can usually not think about 

too much. 

I have enough of those 

and right now, 

I’m just a little too scared 

of accumulating more.