She wears a
Dress
White,
Clean,
Not too much skin,
Not overly adorned,
Sensible.

With a bouquet of perfect flowers
Pinks
Yellows
Whites
Nothing too
Bright.
Everything is
Sensible.

As it should be.
That is her thought
Not mine
My thoughts are not
Sensible.

But every
Day
Every morning
I taste the sour
Bitter words
She puts there
Into my mouth
Lingering on my tongue
Like acid
Stealing my words
Plagiarizing my thoughts
Burning them away until there is
Nothing
My own
Left.

Just like she is
Stealing
My father
Who was not,
Sensible.

He stands there
At the end of the aisle
In a black tux
White shirt
Perfectly pressed
Sensible.

And I can see him
Turning into
Her.
Sensible.

Warm mornings,
Pancakes
Syrup clinging
Ruddy cheeks,
Memories

Soon that is all they will be
And he will move
Leave to a house
Not a home
Homes are not
Sensible

Rebellious teens
Girls going through
Too many boyfriends
The trouble child
I can be
Replaced

No one understood why I
Dissented

Not when my life was coming together
Not when my mother
May she rest in peace,
Was being replaced.
When I
Was being replaced.
And when the dad I knew
Was being replaced,
With something more
Sensible