"How are you?"

"I'm fine, and how are you?"

If only it were that simple.

He believes in power of self yet some days just feels helpless
Hardened body and calloused hands help to hold in demons
Fair smiles and warm laughs on the outside of the house of body
but step inside and see this is no home

Broken bottles fly like broken words in a broken family
How cold does it have to be to freeze a waterfall
as cold as he, as he is cold as ice
tears stop on frozen edge, invisible to all but him
because he hasn't let them fall since he was nine
it may seem sad, the lack of expression almost half of one's life
but that's the kind of man built by a father who never pulled punches
he threw them

yet don't feel sad for our dear boy, he doesn't feel sad for himself
he believes in character he believes in strength but he'd never put a child through that hell
never again would that play be renacted
the stage set in a three bedroom townhouse, this here, the broken home
tongues fly to make sounds echo down hallways into their sons room

is this love?

He doubted it.

Slurred words shouted names he did not know

****

*****

****

Days later he figured this had something to do with why he was moving out, why him and mum left
Why pa flew to Alberta and he was stuck with this mess
the lovely pile of pills and drink he called his mother,
in her sorrowful state of crazy


Our large rock continued it's jolly course around the sun, and many rotations later the boy was king
In charge at home, but not of himself, slowly slipping
calloused hands had nothing to cling to
Mum was losing it, keeping her on her pills was hard
and dad was gone,
whether he was leading a good life or shooting debts into his arms he didn't know
he hadn't talked to him in 3 years
didn't plan to either

So this is how it feels for he,
the bruised boy with good intentions,
keeper of pills and watcher of siblings
the man of the house.
You ask me how I am
and I'll answer it with truth

“I'm fine"

And how are you?”