Silent Treatment.

I seldom hear them leave
only arriving.
It distracts me;
I burn my hand
gripping hot metal.

You will be glared at
just for being here.

What do they speak of
when they say
'how are you doing?'
Some form of joke
much like the kidnappers
helping the single mothers
find long lost happiness.

It is too much sometimes...
The red onions have sat
in balsamic vinegar 
long enough.
Other than them
everything is grey,
especially the sounds I do
or in this case
do not hear.