One seemingly unimportant event:

My dad snuck into my room;
In the middle of night,
Crickets chirping through the open window,
And stole my cinnamon altoids.
He probably thought
The noise would conceal
The soft clanking
Of the metal can.
I was awake -
I didn’t bother to say a thing though.
I knew it was worthless to argue with him.

I was 9 years old when it happened.
I was too young
To realize that he
Was not the man I saw him as.
As a kid, you see the world
Through optimism glasses
That cover your eyes
Like when a mother covers her kid’s
In a scary movie
and don’t let you see
The scum that tarnishes the world.

As I grew older,
I learned the truth
About him.

When I saw my dad;
His actions,
His morals,
And his words,
As they really were,
He stole my respect for him
Like he stole my altoids
When I was 9 years old.

Then I knew that the night
My dad stole my altoids
Was only the beginning -
My dad
For his true self
was manifesting in my mind;
Tainting my previous memories of him.

I talk to him
and tell him that he should say something
To his niece because
She smokes weed
At her dad’s house
and my uncle is
Too lost
In his childish perspectives
To say something.

I say this because I care about my family,
and he calls me judgemental.

I talk to him about quitting smoking,
offering to buy him an e-cigarette.

I say this because I care about my family.
He tells me not to butt into other’s lives.

Mom and dad have been divorced since I was a baby.
Whenever I asked him to be more understanding
Of my problems
Or my mom’s,
“That is not my concern”
He always said.

“Mom and I have been fighting
Over a disagreement,
And I just need to talk.”
“That is not my concern.”

I say, “Mom couldn’t email you,
She was in the hospital for her back again.”
“That is not my concern.”

“Can I see you the next weekend?
My friends are free this weekend,
And we want to go hang out,
And they’re not free the next weekend.”
“That is not my concern.”

“I can’t stay for a whole week this summer,
Like we did before,
I have to work
At my new job.”
“That is not my concern.”

I don’t bother to argue
Over his selfishness.
I leave it at this:

When your friends have left you,
When you have no more value to this world,
When you realize it’s too late
To fulfill your purpose,
When you are old and frail,
And you have back problems like mom,

When you ask me to call you,
To visit you in the hospital,
Or to help you walk when I’m with you,
And to buy you a walker for when I’m not,
Because you lost your job
Behind your cubicle
And can’t afford one yourself,

When you ask these things because
You have problems now,
Like mom and I did back then,
I will say to you,
With a bitter face
And a cold,
Emotionless voice,
“That is not my concern.”