She Said She Raised Me

drove home from mom's the long way so i wouldn't have to be the first one back. at dinner my sister told aunt reyes she 'basically raised me' and everyone did the warm little laugh. i was nine when she left for college. i raised the microwave and the tv. i didn't say anything. i never say anything, i just add it to the list i keep that nobody knows exists. the list has no purpose. i'm not going to use it. i just like knowing it's there, like a receipt i can't return anything with.

at a red light i realized i'd driven past my own turn twice, circling, because the house was going to be empty and quiet and mine and i didn't actually want that either. that's the part that gets me. i kept the long way home to avoid people and then didn't want to arrive. the list doesn't have my name on it anywhere. maybe that's the one i'm actually mad at.