The Redemption

Soft Steps Toward Freedom...

Hearing daddy cry is gut-wrenching,
Especially when it is precipitated by,
“Why don’t your sorry ass get a job,
I can do bad without you,” mommy rants,
watching him pant, struggling to catch
his breath is sickening, the daily tension
is thickening to the point where detention
to prolong the bus ride home has become
first option, wish there were parental auctions,
this way we’d get paid to not have to deal with her,
the last three weeks have been blurred,
screaming in the morning, cursing in the evening,
she is either seething or threatening leaving
which I’m sure, through his ability to endure
has earned daddy an ulcer,
he deserves better,
definitely won’t treat my husband in any similar fashion,
during the creation of his unstable career label
I’ve watched the passion fade, bleach-like,
white to the point of vanishing,
to the point where their interactions are damaging,
to the point where managing the thought of having
to choose between the two has me clamoring
for a way out, a safe place,
a resting temple surrounded by silence,
devoid of violence,
a palace which will serve as a retreat,
something to protect me from the memory
of my father’s feet dangling,
swaying, pendulum-like,
his lifeless body saying,
“I wish I could have protected you,”
I think I’ll give him another chance,
which is why my wrist burn,
blue blood, turned red on my blouse,
now mommy can have this damn house
to herself, and I can have daddy to mine…