Windows Painted Closed

I catch the reflection of us
in the kitchen window,
the look of indifference
etched into my face.
Finally, the words spit out
as the lecture begins.
I feign interest with a nod.  
Then silence, a forceful pause,
her stern gaze pries.
Though I’ve learned to hate her way,
what I say comes out wrong
as we start to throw fire
at each other, sinking deeper
into this moment of ire.
No breaks,
no giving in,
The words revolve around
my spinning head.
In her house,  
I could barely breathe
with all these windows
painted closed.