What is the tension of blood?
My father holds a pricked finger to me
One drop of red like morning dew.
Look what you’ve done.
China smashes to pieces miniscule
The sound of tinkling bells.
Shards hide in wooden crevices gleam
Dangerous winks.
To remove all traces they sweep all night.
I wear socks into rooms. Blue ones.
Tonight, I escape the whipping belt
A locked door and four white walls kept whole
I have learned to ignore the bangings.
I keep thoughts alive not distorted
My neighbors hear the screams
I will tell them tomorrow it was the TV.