Survivor of War

I stand there, doing the laundry

minding my own business,

Watching Survivor

When along comes my mother,

And yells at my father,

For being rude and unsupportive,

And making her a single parent,

And that he has to choose: Her or no merit.

I grab my belongings as they scream and shout,

About insurance and jobs and who knows what about,

I hightail it upstairs

And shut the door,

Telling myself it's not real;

Nevermore.

She confronts him about his swerving mood,

And why his anger is a whiplash of rude,

And how he favors her over me,

"You don't want to lose her, do you?"

I go into the bathroom,

To clean up,

When my mother comes upstairs,

Calm and nonchalant,

Reminding me to wring out

that old washcloth,

And bids me good night.

I hide my tears from under the towel,

I want to crawl, back to my mother,

And give her a hug and a kiss goodnight,

But I feel it's too late,

Too late to cease-strife

Too late to apologize

For things I haven't done,

Hoping it will make a difference,

But a war has just begun.