These walls are paper thin. I can hear faint arguments, resemble politics. Fathers a democrat, & mothers a republican. Voices get lost in the distance of my mind. I picked up a pen, walked up to my father, cut open his stomach, & wrote obstinate on his liver. Then I walked towards my mother, slit open her chest, & wrote sadness on her tacit heart. I proceeded into my little sisters room, carefully removed her ears, & wrote Innocence across her tiny eye lids. Midway distance between my room & the front door to the outside world. I got lost again, roaming in my head for the third time that day. Found my way unto my bed. I layed down to closed my eyes and woke up to a new day. Yet the same sounds again.