Too Many Chairs
A cluttered living room
With more chairs than people.
A cat that swipes at everyone
except her owner.
A dog that barks too much.
Intruders.
Pressed on smiles like fake nails,
only lasting until the glue wears.
My aunt and “uncle” try to be hosts
while Alex- my cousin- hides in
running water,
under excuses that he’s
cleaning himself up
like he did when he moved to Florida.
He doesn’t want to see me.
well, my mother.
But we look so much alike.
Blind hatred fueled by
Staying in a house with rules.
My house.
With three other boys
and Me.
Him. Spoiled and lonely
attached to his slippery mother.
She. Too overprotective.
Too blinded by her only child.
Eating his lies like the apples
she offers us while we sit on
Their couch.
It’s too small to make me
Feel at home.
Those lies
Tear away at ropes
that try to hoist him up
His reaction makes him drown
The water from the shower head
Make him drown
And he’s smothered
from my mother’s outstretched hand
and my father’s “You can do better”
He doesn’t know pure oxygen.
He doesn’t know real danger.
A dizzy bullet hits his chest
The handle twirling around
his father’s drunken fingers.
And we sat in the living room
With covered mirrors
and too many chairs.
