The blow across my face

Is so ingrained

That not feeling it

 

Wakes me

To the safety of my own bed

 

It is the first night of Spring Break

I am too bothered to sleep

 

(On Reflection)

I help a drunken mother

Up a mountain of stairs

She teeters and totters

Before falling to the ground

 

I leave

To clear my head

 

I come back home

A term I use loosely

 

To find a bathroom filled with silence

The sound of confrontation usually starts

Quieter than a whisper

 

A stereo is plugged in next to the tub

The dank room smells of drunken lust

I find my clothes drowning face down in the toilet

 

A parent apparently didn’t think

That I cleaned up after myself

 

I scoff under my breath

My frustration is palpable

Even upstairs my father can taste

My rage of injustice

 

He asks “WHAT?”

I roll my head in disgust

Knowing it’s a lost cause

Fighting with a lost cause

I never learned to shut up

For that long

 

I stand my ground in opposition

I don’t have to say anything

 

My presence alone signals my defiance

I ready for the strike across my face

 

When the pain doesn’t come

The adrenaline grabs for the pen

 

My past has ensured that this first vacation night

Will not be a restful one.