I recognize what feels like love in your yelling
The whole you punched in the wall is a window
I can see myself in it
I am nine years old
Gripping onto the hallway rungs
Peering down at the dancing shadows
I hide my creaky footsteps in my mothers screams
I do not cry
Instead I go back to bed and dream of the damage I will wake up to
Your anger is nostalgic
Our fighting feels so intimate
Control is your love language
And I will fool myself into thinking I am fighting it as I yell back at you
But I will tell you I love you by letting you hold me back
Your eyes are the same shade of hazel rage as my father's
I find comfort in the chaos
It feels good to be back in the warm blanket of detachment
I felt so empty without the pit in my stomach
The slamming of doors is a lullaby
I make sure my fingers don't linger too long in the doorway
I will practice my apology on my way out
You will act like your voice isn't strained when you call me back
And it will feel like I am nine years old again
Eating breakfast and ignoring the broken glass on the floor
It is a bittersweet familiarity
I decided what love was when there wasn't any
I relive my childhood everyday with you
I look for my father in everything I do
It is a vicious cycle I fear I will never find my way out of
