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.
FREEWRITE:
ReplyDeletestepping into a cluttered living room, with more chairs than people. The cat viciously swipes at anyone that isn’t her owner. Pressed on smiles at the man who married into my family. The shower is running, hiding away a frightened man. My cousin Alex doesn’t want to see my mother and I. We sit on the uncomfortable couch, it being used as a pedestal Memories of a young boy, staying in my house. A lonely boy attached to his slippery mother. She’s too overprotective, too blinded by her only child. His lies tear away at the only rope that tries to lift him up. Making him drown. He drowns in water from the showerhead. He suffocates from our want to help him. He doesn’t know what real oxygen is. He doesn’t know what real danger is. A dizzy bullet hits his chest. It’s handle twirling around the drunken hands of his father. I did not get to see him as he hid in the water. Perhaps if he didn’t misunderstand my mother, I’d get to say goodbye. We sat in the cluttered living room, bulky tabletops and too many chairs.