A house that’s just a little bit too clean
beds that are always made
several empty bottles of beer and wine
walls that appear to trap anyone who comes near.
A mother sitting upright, wide awake at 4 in the morning
an anxious dog who paces in the kitchen all night
a weary father who feels older than he should
and just wants to rest.
Several phones nearby just in case.
The youngest upstairs hiding in her room
unable to understand.
The eldest moved away
focusing her thoughts on anything else.
Empty pill bottles strewn around the house
like christmas lights.
Air so thick breathing almost becomes impossible.
The middle child gone
maybe in jail
or the hospital
or perfectly fine.
Kisses the needles left seen visibly on her arms.
Something eating away at her mind and her soul.
Empty promises of a better future
swirl in circles with the heroin
in her black and blue veins.