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Message from Writer

Writing to me is an outlet. It is the way I drain the poison from my body. Sometimes it comes out beautiful and tragic and other times it comes out pathetic and broken. Either way it allows me to heal and I love doing it more than anything.

A Familiar Over-reaction

April 10, 2019


Clashing plates and glasses,
Spilled liquid and slammed doors,
all because his ego was sore.

If you know, then you know,
how this situation goes,
from a quiet table dinner to muffled screams and shouts.
The ones you hear from the next room over, as you try and block the swearing voices out.

Fearful and anxious,
Picturing the worst possible outcomes,
from this hysterical misunderstanding,
Afraid of where we'll stand in the morning.

But then a door slams again,
And before you know it, she's grabbing her purse and saying we have to go.
A friend's house,
A hotel,
Anywhere except this place,
This apartment that was to be our home,
But has turned into our broken, stained tomb.

Loud steps and rapid breaths suddenly emerge,
Arms tangle around her powerless body so she can't escape anywhere.
Pushing and pulling, it's a tug of war that screams insanity.
Insanity that I thought was gone.
But just like every other time I thought wrong.

We're reverting back to what we've lived with before;
This I realize as he pushes me to the floor.
Just like a decade ago, I'm powerless over this tornado destroying my house.
I can only leave and hope that she calms him down.

I return not home but to walls holding lies and more false promises.
Everyone's smiling,
It's as if our dinner never went to Hell.

If you know, then you know,
Where this chaotic blur of events goes,
It's swept under the rug,
It never happened.
It never happened.
It never happened.
It never happened.


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  • April 10, 2019 - 10:46pm (Now Viewing)

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