clenching the walkman,
blistering guitar solos penetrated
my ears as I hid in the corner hoping
neighbors didn’t hear china breaking in the kitchen.
tracing each unexplained beauty mark
to the next on my arm, my eyes closed
time a scream not from the rickety
headphones attempted to enter my ear.
eroding lime green paint chips bounced on to the floor in response to
slam shut doors. staring at the posters on my wall, my idols reminded me
one day I would leave this shell of a house and the nightmares behind.
my mother set a cold grilled cheese sandwich alone on the lonely hardwood floor outside my room. she could still hear my silent screams knowing I hadn’t eaten all that day.
I wouldn’t forget to bring my mom with me when I leave.