Alcohol

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While my mom is away, feeding the slots:

sedating her hunger at the casinos she sees as a home.


She stays there; my dad and I we are at home.



I want my dad to talk to me,


but he is drinking, so I play games



alone.




He drinks because he knows.

He knows where my mom is and what she is doing,
this knowledge drives him to drink, and drink he does.



For every hour she is gone,

The beast that has been called by the alcohol induced stupor.

He doesn’t want to talk to me, he wants to drink.


Drink his vodka, or drink his whiskey and 7-up
He drinks, he becomes angry.


He breaks the door with his fist, and

He doesn’t even notice he broke his knuckles too.


He drinks more, and then he sleeps.
I cry alone in the living room knowing he’s hurt,

Hurting because my mom is away,


And hurting because of his hand.



I get up and move to my room
I think about my mom and the fact she is not here

While I lay in my bed, thinking.
I slowly… ever so slowly cry myself to sleep.


When I think I’m there, I hear my father

He yells, “F*** her!” “I’m done.” and again he hit’s the door. The demons of heel born form liquor have been


unleashed.

As the demons unleash their furry on his bedroom door,
My mother walks in, not drunk form boos, but

Drunk on sadness and disappointment.


Once again she has lost.

I know what is coming; the fight that will ensue between the demons of my mom and dad.

So I try and hide, I sob into my pillow while
They yell, they scream and cuss, and I worry for them
Both.


Soon the yelling stops


I am scared, and will not look to see what has happened
So still I sit there, and still I cry.


I cry until the demons of my parents are gone,
Drowned out by the heaven and sanctuary of my dreams


Where not even the demons from the deepest Regions of hell can touch me.


The morning comes and the silence rings still
I smell alcohol, and I know my dad has drank through the night.


But I here two sets of snores, and I know that I will see both my parents are okay. So I go to the kitchen,

I make a bowl of cereal, and think.
I think about how I am going to deal with what is to come tonight.


There is a beast in the house, a demon
It makes terrorists seem small. The demon born of hell





Alcohol.





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