Fine

we live our lives in this broken house doing
those mundane things we do to survive
to break the silence
and to restore some sort of normalcy

it’s like spackling on a wall
after a hole has been punched in by my brother’s fist
it’s still there it’s just

all
in
your
head

just like the voices that coo
to me in the night
perched upon the headboard
giving me these acidic kisses that
leave those marks on my temples
that forbid me to hide away
scurry
under safety of my pillow
their frustrated footsteps dance outside my door
those little demons I fear and loathe
are rapping and rapping
beating down that door with their
shouts and
lamentations
fiddling with that brass door knob
the door never opens but their
claws drag and tantalize
reducing me to these equally demonic
bloodshot eyes
soundless sleep and
petty lies

“yes, I’m completely fine.”

“yes, I’m completely fine.”