the deluded ones [#2]

you

may 4th, 2017

outside, there is silence, and it's peaceful.

but, inside, a fire erupts. there is danger, but it's not physical. words are spoken; shouts are made. levels of anger overflood, and i watch as the columns of family begin to crack and fall.

and the unseen becomes seen. humans are fascinating as you've deemed because their feelings and actions collide with their will, created from experiences and common sense, and they become powerful as you say.

but the pain they can create is devastating in so many ways because i saw my mother break down crying for the first time in my life tonight. i heard her voice crack so many times, and i felt her pain shake the entire room and reverberate back to her. i felt her shatter, and i heard her voice from the floor above, echoing sobs over and over again.

and her pain, her sorrows as a mother, come to life more than ever, and i ask myself why i'm shaking, why i'm crying when i'm not her. and i stand outside her bedroom door, seeing it half-closed and silent. and, as she sleeps, i wonder if our family will ever move past this because there's nothing left to hold it up anymore.

the only thing that remains, beside us holding onto our seams, is the shattered pieces of family that once belonged to a stable structure.