He burnt the bed sheets. Finally.
His shoes
Smelt of marital blood
Afterwards.
On days like these,
He enjoys catching dust in his hands,
Likes to compare the flecks to the
Cuts on his palms
Until he can’t see the difference
Anymore.

Shrieks come from the tub,
Voltage pushing his legs to jump.
Now he watches the bath
Rumble the house with its tears

Plump.
          Plump.
                    Plump.

Rain covers tormented streets;
He too feels he must erupt from the sky.

Plump.
          Plump.
                    Plump.

A window
Replays the chaos of the world
From ten stories high.

Plump.