Tangled Strings

By: Lexie McKay

If family is chosen

I know you won’t choose me.

You’ve seen my worst parts

the corners of my heart

I hurt you on purpose

then accidentally.

If you forget to say goodbye

it won’t be coincidentally.

I don’t want it to be this way—

it’s not my decision

no amount of careful precision

could make you stay.

I don’t need to be a priority

but I’d like to be on the list.

I’d like to be invited

but I won’t insist.

I don’t want to be

a familial obligation.

I don’t want seeing you

to be a special occasion.

Years from now—

out of the blue

if we run into each other

will I know how to act around you?

Will the mask slip on automatically?

Will we communicate diplomatically?

Is our family an inevitable tragedy?

I know you are better than me

made for bigger, brighter things—

you were born with golden wings

and I was born with tangled strings

tethering me to the ground.

I don’t care that I’m earthbound.

I care that the sky is far, far away

and that you leave on Monday.