if these walls could talk

January 17, 2018

Every dish was
Strategically placed
On a shined
Marble countertop

Every treasure was
disinfected to the point
Of deterioration

The perfection was
Rotting away
From this house

Mother had to step
outside to smoke
during the family dinner

She claimed that
Work stressed her out
To the brink of madness

When she
Stepped away
Father would
Slam his hand
On the oak table

And drive away
God knows where
To meet his
Secret serpent
To give him
What Mother
Could not

Mother would return
To see our
Typically disappointed
Faces staring at our
Cold peas

Wondering where
Went sour.

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