A broken household yet there are no cracks in the ceiling walls. Spiders whisper about the misfortune and mistakes that drape the curtains. Their webs hang from the most exquisite embroidery shipped all the way from Kansas City.
No one would ever guess that behind these nice closed doors lies a mess. Emotions crumble, and tears seep beneath slammed doors…but when the guests step in, the drinks begin to pour.
The celebrations roll on accompanied by silvery trays. The forced laughs are the sourest, the pressure to enjoy the night is apparative,
And in their silent eyes the pain is the loudest.
The night is over, Spiders whisper misery to each other. The walls recognise the familiar silence, and loneliness reigns.
A broken household, yet the bricks are firmly intact. No cracks in the ceiling walls. No smudges on the paint. Echos of the happiness that once existed, flow quietly…
A melodic medley that everyone once knew, but the effort to remember exceeds their memory, so acceptance is key.
Blame, shame, and hidden agendas whisper under entrants soles. The children are asleep, but their conscience resonates, they can hear or feel truth through hard, cemented walls.
One of them listens harder, she cares to know lovingly.
Taking sides becomes an unconscious choice, and she chooses unwillingly. She regrets her choice, but she doesn’t know better. Together they leave, her and her heart beat, this broken household to another newly empty space.
Separation makes her cold. Hateful words gape through her innocent lips, assumptions make her hair greyer than her age. She can feel the others feelings and Her eyes wrinkle with her thoughts.
A broken household, yet there are no cracks in the ceiling walls. They have been mended with the years, his guilty bones give him nothing better to do but fix the house that once had life.
By Faria, 11th December 2015