Me and my sister
Our parts make a jigsaw
She's more like my father
While I look for something common
And see only a shared name
But we both have business in our blood
There's parts, there's fractions
Of a legacy built through two generations
She has his way with people
She has his work ethic
I have his ideas, his precision
Between the two of us we carry him
We carry his warmth just like
we carry his frost
She gets this selfless part from him
that I could never be
I just hope it serves her better
Like him she loves too much
Like with him it doesn't end well
I have my father's mood
Changing hues like flipping through
A child's playbook
I have his habit of detachment
His need for order.
Like him I'm blind to everything but the flaws
My sister blind to everything but the light
We're always extremes and never midway
We both share his anxious mind
His racing heart
We're both hot rage in our own ways
We're both impulsive decisions
And broken relations
There's not much you can do about legacies
They show up in desperate ways
They have a need for belonging
A thirst for holding on
And the only way you find balance is
Being the glue and putting together the jigsaw
The only way you live is
Hoping, against reason, the picture
doesn't turn out ugly