Poems of a Lost Girl

Slamming Doors

In my room, all alone

The back door slams, daddy's home.

I bite my lip and I pray that all his anger goes away.

He isn't drunk, no he's perfectly stable. But just then; Boom! Goes the living room table.

"Where is it?!" He shouts, as if it will help.

Sometimes this makes me worry about his health.

Do not talk, no don't make a sound.

Don't try to comfort he'll only get loud.

I sit and wait, maybe soon it will end.

Bam!

There he is at it again.

I silently listen as ten minutes pass; he continues to yell things that are so crass.

I'm scared as he yells, and knocks more things over!

Oh God, make it pass! When will this be over?

It's quiet for a minute, and I don't hear a thing.

I sneak to my door where I can hear everything.

Rustling, searching, groaning and throwing.

He's quieter now but his anger's still growing.

What have you lost darling? Why can't I help?

I shy away from the doorknob as he begins to yell.

Everyone has their kinks; everyone has to live through their hell.

It's quieter now, so I might as well.

I turn the knob with shaking hands, quiet and silent my body demands.

My movements are sheepish but I just want to see, what kind of a monster today he'll be..

ϔThe house is a wreck, just a pure mess.

There are clothes in the hallway and glass on the floor,

There are tables turned over and slung open drawers.

My body is aching from sitting so long, my hands are shaking as I creep along.

Trying to avoid the monster inside his room, I scamper into the laundry room and grab the broom.

Just as I turn my face is flashed with green, a curtain erupted in wrinkles as it swings.

He walks on by and stomps up the stairs, the thing he was looking for must be up there.

Or in his hands, I do not know, nor do I care, I just want him to go!

Slamming doors, dirty floors, this is just a mess.

My body sore and so is my head.

You know when you get that feeling after you've just been sick all week?

You're recovering and the first time you stand on your feet?

When your body aches, and your hands shake, and your head is throbbing in place?

Your muscles are too sore, to open the door and the nausea won't go away?

That's how I feel after this whole ordeal.

The door slams again and he's gone for the day.

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