they criticize at me.
saying I am lazy and don't deserve to have
a second chance.
"you should have done the work I assigned"
but they're not there for when the fights get too much
when i sink into the folds of the couch, my parents voices
radiating heat onto the furniture,
melting the faces off of the kids
they so lovingly raised merely years ago.
at what point did kisses goodnight become slammed doors?
cars idling in a parking lot, far away from the house they bought together.
at what point did my drive for knowledge
become engulfed by the never ending drive to keep my supposedly eternal family together?
all I see is empty lines on clean paper, far away from the place i was last year.
so tell me
o thou, great teacher
what i am to do about the horrors seen at home?
how do I forget these things
and focus on memorizing letters and numbers,
when my entire home is being torn down
by those who built it?
brick by brick
by scalding brick
and you want me to clutch my backpack
and shield it with my own body
from the falling debris
taking me in its wake.