The dusty hanging plant falls and smashes
Against the cold wooden floor
Now the family asks ‘Who cut the string?’
As the melodramatic silence fills the room
Where have the chattering mouths gone?
Fled the coup to achieve innocence
But Mother’s glare stays intimidating and steady
Another question plays behind sealed lips
Because this family is itching to leave the room
Being together is too agonizing and awkward
Soft company no longer lives within these spaces
The walls of the house are falling;
This home is to grievous to provide comfort
And through all the undying memories
Few can drench the longing anger
Just waiting to kill off each family member,
One by one the inevitable will take us
Slowly and fiercely it devours us
I’m only hoping that it’ll take me first

 
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