Do they understand
I am standing in the room
trying to make sense of
what I do not want to see.
I am witness to every motion,
every word branded into
my memory,
all of it a blur.
Like a movie,
a scene rehearsed
beyond perfection,
so real that their
only audience trembles
with confusion and fear.
Do I understand
the reasons, big
and small,
behind the raised voices,
sudden, spastic movements,
reddened faces,
hands flying erradically,
spit sailing from lips to air.
Questions met with inadequate and
nonsensical responses.
Accusations like tumblers,
dangerously thrown in the air.
Do you understand
why they continue
when there is no winner,
only losers filled
with hurt.
Nothing new happens
but new sparks alight,
each more inconsequential
than the last.
There is no point,
no moving on.
The cycle continues.