When my parents divorced
I had some difficulty coping
And was sent to a counselor.
On the first day,
She said
Let's play a game.

A game about divorce.
Where we couldn't afford any properties
But were always paying rent
Where we passed go
And switched households,
Collecting two hundred dollars,
Child support,
From my banker father
Who couldn't afford it
As we did so.
My game piece didn't move around the board,
It moved around apartment complexes.
My mom's token didn't move square to square,
It moved boyfriend to boyfriend.

A broken family board game.

The last game I had played
At my last family game night,
Was Jenga.
My last memory of my parent's marriage.
Let's play a game.

My parent's didn't pull blocks,
They tread sneakily,
Trying to keep our worlds from toppling.
My sister and I yanked pieces,
Naive, unaware of our fragile family,
Shrieking with excitement
When the tower fell over.
Shrieking in terror
As our mom lifted up the heavy game box,
Reared back
And threw it at my Dad's head.
Gasping in horror as,
In slow motion,
Dad's eyes widened,
Head ducked,
Window smashed instead.

Outside now lay a broken family board game.
Inside,
Only a broken family.