writers in the family get ignored.
what gets passed around in
photographs - narcissistic postcards
the myriad of words
goes missing, unnoticed
in the storms of small talk
and faces that bring
unwanted memories.
dusty poems get published
published poems get dusty -
we rely on hallmark
to speak for the words
a writer pours from their heart.
it's not notes in our blood
but rage, secrets,
and fiending whisky -
guitar strums will never capture
how a child tries to focus on
the birds
to drown out the screaming
from inside the house
writers in the family get resented.
for they can't be fooled -
for their words
are the dust that is swept
under the rug,
the generational tragedy
that everybody else
is too scared to face.
