there is something about the silence
that follows the screaming
that leaves a hollowness in my bones
and makes me scared to step out the doorway
in theory, they wouldn't deliberately hurt me
they wouldn't do so knowingly
but their hypothesis was proven false
they found a different way to wound me
it's the look in their eyes following the death of sound
full of contempt and anger, broiling in resentment
spoken in words i could barely understand
it makes me shrink away
the others have that warning glance
mouthing "go back upstairs, go back"
as the screaming continues again
and i scramble back up without a sound
the silence is the worst part of it all
the dangerous atmosphere simmers overnight
they never apologize afterwards
it keeps me up all night
because their jabs still echo in my mind
their resentful "i hate yous" and curses
and how the words that they threw at each other
would redirect to the others and me
their wounds begin to fester
and i could see it so clearly
but they refuse to let it be treated
and it's making me want to cry
because it is all so simple
for them to just mend each other's wounds
but they would rather take each other apart
than hold their family together
i don't remember the last time i said
"i love you" to either of them
because when i see them, love isn't there.
fear boils in my stomach
their wounds festers and bleeds
onto me and the rest, and they wonder why
we scrub at our skin
and won't meet their eyes
"i don't want to end up like them"
is sadly the phrase I associate
with the festered wounds of
the hollowed screaming voices.
YOU ARE READING
Life's Memorabilia
PoetryIn haste to make light , one must first conquer darkness A battle between white and black But no one ever seems to mention the murky gray mixtures in between As the quietness of silence covers my ears, I plead to heed my words For there is just so...
