gratitude

Rear view mirror? Check.
Side view mirror? Double check.
Signal, safe to turn.

Hand over hand. The
wheels inch into the–blinding
light? I readjust.

There is little room
to maneuver around him,
but I do my best.

Safe in the driveway,
and then I open my door,
into living rage.

Accusations fly.
He sees red and nothing else.
I feel deja vu.

Calm in crisis mode
I decide not to react:
let him blow off steam.

My mind is racing
toward random acts of violence,
praying for restraint.

I think of my dad,
of my life, and hide the fear
until he is gone,

until I am safe
within the confines of home
where my tears can flow.

About Modern Vintage Ink.

Ghostwriter. Copywriter. Business Curator. Founder, Modern Vintage Ink. Reinvention through experimentation. Serendipitous NYer. Alum of @AOL_Inc @GQ @NBC_Universal @Marist View all posts by Modern Vintage Ink.

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