Day #5 – Red Car

The theme of 60 days of poetry this year is cars and my dad. The deeper meaning behind all the ways we were raised. In the past decade plus of having this blog reflections on my upbringing come up all over the place. I am more than grateful for the person that I am because of my family. We all have painful memories and things we would have not changed at all. My dad sacrificed a lot of himself for me to play ice hockey from 10 to 16. We traveled all over Colorado playing games every weekend 8 months out of the year plus early morning practices + all the training on the off season + everything else that is involved with being addicted to the love of the game 🙂 I honor my dad for that time that we had. I also remember his dark side. His anger. His grief. His chemical imbalances. His depression. I am his son. Jared means inheritor. I got it all. I got his green eyes. I got his intelligence. I got his depression.

April 20th.

“We hated that red car,

We still knew, deep down,

We would get far.”

I dreamed of this last night,

How you used to drag me around, and drag me down.

How you used to fill us with your dreams of celebrity,

And were we the number one priority?

I knew your name as much as you let me,

I always wanted more,

I needed your mystery.

” I hated that red car,

it took us far, but isn’t red just

A big fat stop sign?”

I have this dialogue now that I

Have to be a man,

Now that I have to do more than

Survive, now that I have to take all

The things you gave me,

And all the things you took away.

Bright red like sports,

Like fast, like fast girls, and

Sex in the city,

Red like lipstick,

For all the first kisses that

Never happened in that time,

Red for anger, for rage, for

Turning pale,

For all the red faced moments,

In that red paced car,

For that red and later

Blackened heart you gave us.

I dreamed of this last night,

How you used to drag me around, and drag me down.

How you used to fill us with your dreams of celebrity,

And were we the number one priority?

I have different dreams now,

Dreams that have nothing to do with you,

And the things I lived under,

And the blame for all the red hot moments

That were hard to erase,

That creep up in fast pace,

In the fast cars I still drive,

And the lips I still try to kiss,

And the endless bliss I can

Get from living a life of redemption,

For living a life of driving away,

Driving away,

Driving away,

Driving away,

Driving fast,

Driving faster,

Driving as long as I can,

Not away from the things that got me

This far,

That red car,

That red look on your face,

That red car,

The wrist scars I

Still carry,

Driving away,

Driving fast,

Driving again,

Driving into something

Different. After all,

Tomorrow is Easter?

Tomorrow is about resurrection.

 

 

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