i am young and i am weak
my life is progressing and i'm afraid i'm being left behind
though i have no motivation to try and catch up
my memories of family dinners consist of shouting and more shouting
accompanied by the distinct feeling of my body slowly beginning to explode from the inside out from the frustration of never being able to make it stop
all i wanted was dead silence
all i got was a painfully loud abyss that devoured my entire being in flames of anger that i'm still hoping will one day fizzle out
i was certain i would never want to have another one again
but my father is in europe with the new woman in his life
worrying that he's begun to neglect his children that have become too accustomed to change to even notice if he doesn't call as often as before
and my mother is staying the night at a man's house that she hardly knows
something she would've insisted she would never be the type to do
and this kitchen table that has sat vacant for two years forces me to realize that the sounds of hatred and shouting are like a lullaby to me
and god knows i need some sleep