I almost ran away over the weekend.

Yelling pierced the air and spilled from the door,

And I couldn’t take it anymore.

So I got in my car and started driving.

I came back because the tank was empty.

I came back because I couldn’t continue on.

I came back because I was bound to that house and its darkness

And this crummy little town.

That’s why I didn’t do my homework.

The yelling was a distraction from chemical reactions on paper.

I couldn’t break down the noise beyond my door

So I couldn’t break down problem number two.

I curled in my closet with the radio on instead.

Hiding didn’t quiet the yelling, and running was a temporary respite.

The entire weekend was a game of roulette

And when I lost, the yelling was turned on me.

Russian Roulette without the gun but not without the danger.

You never knew what it was like at home.

That was all the shit I couldn’t tell you.