shut up!

i hate it most when they’re in the kitchen
the screams echo off my mother’s chinese plates
and clash into each other like a bull towards a red flag
horns up, legs bucked, fists up.
wishing the red flag would submit to a white
like my daddy’s face when he found out momma was sleeping with a rich man

white wall, brown fist, was he picturing her face?

ring fingers with no fucking ring
me growing up with an attitude and commitment issues, is that my goddamn fault?
SHUT UP! you’re so.... loud. let me sleep, even the monster under my bed wants peace, he thinks you both are the monsters, I, me, your child, thinks you both are hungry, cannibalistic and haunting monsters.
both of you are thriving in the lies while you chase each other’s tails like dog and cat.
leaving each other in the dust of hopeless pixies of i still love yous.
fuck you! teach me a resolution without screams of agony and broken beer bottles. i’m so tired of eating dinner by myself and stepping on the glass on the floor. the bandages on the soles of my feet are a metaphor.
conceal the stabs but the scars will open again at 8pm