late night phone call
his voice is weepy and urgent
his speech is slurred
he is crying
it's obvious
as he demands to speak to her

she is patient and kind
her voice filled with exhaustion
she tells him over and over
"it's okay, it's okay"
she knows it's what he needs to hear
even though it's a lie

they both know it
she leans against the counter
in the glare of the kitchen light
the image of exhaustion
he passes out on the end of the line.
she won't forget,
he'll never remember.

they'll both never know
the scared little girl
who stood quietly by
and watched it all unfold
her world
crumbling on it's axis