I got an A on the third quiz in American history,
an A,
dammit.
Last time I got a B
up from a C
and my father said,
"if you can get a C
you can get a B,
if you can get a B
you can get an A."-
I got an A
and my father said,
"grades don't mean anything.
Stichwörter: sad depressing father grades
I'm sure you were mistaken," Yaicha says to her brush.
My ears pin back -
"MISTAKEN?
I know who Angie is, Yaicha.
I know who our father is, Yaicha.
He hurts people, he hurts you, you never do anything!" My claws scrape the wall paint.
She turns with soft rabbit eyes. "He'll kill me."
"He's already doing that!"
I am growling, grabbing her sleeve, "Every day, every day he rips you open,
chips off pieces week by week, till a few years from now you are not even a mouthful of sawdust.
A drawn-out killing.
Well, I'm tired of all of us doing nothing. He has to be stopped."
Yaicha's eyes have flinched a few times but soften again. "Nobody can stop him."
My teeth show.
"Nobody can stop him? Good.
To him I have always been
Nobody.
Invite someone over?
No.
Nobody plays at my house.
I'm sorry, I had a meeting"
I stand behind his chair. "Liar," under my breath.
"You weren't at a meeting," take a breath, gain speed, bursting,
"You were with Angie in the office.
I saw you. I saw you. You clamp us down, you think no one knows.
You hurt my brother! My sister!
You hurt my friend! Small trusting prey, huh?
You had to squash some weak person already in pain, thinking she loved you.
You could have chosen to hurt me!
But I'm not worth enough, I never am and you picked poor Angie, you were going to RAPE her, I SAW YOU TRY TO RAPE ANGIE, you fucking MONSTER!
If all this tree is from mom and all this tree is from him
where do I grow my own branches?
I am always there.
But they don't care if I am
because I am furniture.
I don't get hit
I don't get fondled
I don't get love
because I am furniture
Suits me fine.
Stichwörter: loveless
Yaicha and Darren
told me that I was
the mailman's child,
and I got so angry,
stalking away,
hot steam in my ribs.
Yaicha and Darren
told me that I was
the mailman's child
and now I am thinking
how wonderful it would be
to have
the mailman as
my father.
Yaicha runs.
He sits down, tired,
and says to mom,
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
Inevitable that he does it.
But he doesn't really want
a witness.
Stichwörter: witness inevitable
The foam cushions
on the old couch downstairs
disintegrate
daily
in a hush,
like each of us,
small flecks of
hardening puffs
raining mute to the floor
when I flop down to study.
And the more the couch gets used,
the less foam it keeps--
someday
just an uncomfortable frame,
springs and other inner workings
exposed.
Silent.
You've always
been skinny,
always will."
I can feel
each
reclusive
bone
poke through,
the bones of
Embarrassment,
Anger,
Relief.
I push some back in,
but leave
Anger
sticking out.
Stichwörter: anger
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