Older Children That Yell At Their Parents
the walls hum with voices
of a war no one sees.
the dinner plates rattle
as if asking to be smashed,
and the dog hides under the table,
eyes wide,
waiting for the next explosion.
they are lightning
without rain,
fireworks that never fade.
they yell because the silence
has eaten them alive,
a hunger that no bread can cure.
medications sit on the counter
like unspoken prayers,
but the children won't touch them.
they won’t believe in saints,
in gods, in doctors.
they are raw,
howling,
a choir of torn hearts
singing themselves to pieces.
the parents turn to stone,
old wounds stitched to their faces,
waiting for the storm
to blow itself away.
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