I am still too much like my broken mother
too alike to my angry father…
maybe it’s worse to have both.
One part of me always driving too fast,
the other concealing the fine.

I guess that’s what it means to be human
all DNA,
pairing the genes.
The A’s and C’s and T’s and G’s
embracing each other fondly
or stabbing the other’s back
like arranged marriages.

The forced “For better or worse”s,
cross-fingered “In sickness and health”s
all to create a human,
a person,
or a me
all hoping against the last.

Not one of those letters was my choice
but I believe that the phrase:
“the world is not fair.”
is only said because fear runs too deep
to stand upon the knots,
the fill back in the grave
but I can choose to be a rebel.

I can learn to write letters I can change
twenty-two new characters,
my perfectly malleable slaves.
They are human words,
marriages built upon love,
honest “In sickness and in health”s
willing “for better or worse”s
letters written to fall into each others arms
letters that say more than just “Biology”
more than “Here because they made me.”
but “Here because I am.”