The Fight

January 16, 2008
I can't sleep,
Yelling, screaming, coming from the floor below.
I slowly get out of bed and tiptoe over to the banister.
They're fighting again.

I sob softly,
The tears burning my cheeks.
I run downstairs, holding my teddy bear to my chest.
They're fighting again.

I run over to her and tug on her nightgown.
She can't hear me over his yells.
They pierce my ears and heart.
They're fighting again.

“Mama! Mama!” I shout as loud as I can.
I am only five,
I am so small.
They can't hear me because
They're fighting again.

The next morning, she packs her bags,
She kneels down and kisses my cheek gently.
Tears cascade down her face as she walks out the door.
He's on the couch.
He knows what he did wrong,
But at least now
They're fighting no more.

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