I Like Cheeseburgers Too Much To Be

The Bathroom Door Swings Open. Emma Sees The Blood Painting My Skin And The Red Rivers Carved On My Body. Emma Sees The Wet Knife, Silver And Bone. The Screams Of My Little Sister Shatter Mirrors.

I've Written In Every Imaginable Location; A Repurposed Closet, The Kitchen Table, The Bleachers While My Kids Had Basketball Practice, The Front Seat Of The Car When They Were At Soccer. In Airports. On Trains. In The Break Room When I Was Supposed To Be Wolfing Down Dinner. In The Back Of Classrooms When I Was Supposed To Be Paying Attention.

Kids Are Mostly Very Resilient.

Do They Choose To Be So Dense? Were They Born That Way? I Have No Friends. I Have Nothing. I Say Nothing. I Am Nothing.

I Am Not Going To Think About It. It Was Ugly, But It’s Over, And I’m Not Going To Think About It.