Shaken From Within

Bump. Bump. Bump.

The rhythmic commotion in my chest exasperates me.

Trying to stuff myself with the crawlspace with ripped plush toys and broken bobbles in the darkness.

The ratty door, the rusty hinges continues to emulate bangs of anger.

BANG. BANG. Each one brings a shivering stall to my heart.

Then…Silence. Pure unadulterated silence.

This silent calmness soothes my trembling soul.

Giving me one chance of hoping, wishing, praying

That my mental and physical tarnishing and torment have ceased.

Father’s inaudible footsteps and unheard drunken slurs

Engenders a bittersweet atmosphere to a once livable home.

A home that was of the “American dream” with a fantasized white picket fence

And not in ramshackle with overgrown weeds and chipped flooring.

A home where there was a content family who loved and cared for each other

And didn’t make each other cry from screaming

A home where a husband and wife that stood by their vows

And who wasn’t so argumentative about cracked plates or unfamiliar lipstick on Dad’s collar.

A home where a father’s love was more caring

 Than from desperate lustfulness for craving Mom’s absent tenderness.

A home where talking and laughter would echo

Instead of this silence.

Silence; pure unadulterated s- Crrrrrrrreeeaaaakkkkkk