hers
its getting darker in here. the chair is under me. they are talking at me.
i am screaming.
i look again. the two bowls are still sitting there.
ugh. yuck. no way.
dark. chair. talk. scream. bowls. dark.chair.talk.scream.bowls. darkchairtalkscream.
still
the bowls.
i feel it in my throat. my belly. raw from sound. no spoon in my mouth.
empty.
dark. chair. talk. scream. bowls. dark.chair.talk.scream.bowls. darkchairtalkscream.
still
the bowls.
i close my mouth. brighter room. bowls gone. i can have something else if i get it myself.
i ask for the bread.
i look up at her and she doesn't look right. mushed face. she sets the bread on the counter.
hard so it makes a sound.
what's wrong mama. she doesn't answer. i sit down with the bread.
it's good.
***
mine
i can't believe
i'm sitting here at this table with three crying gagging children. eating my dinner which should be good but i'm not even tasting it. only tasting anger. growing. boiling. scalding my mouth.
i know i should
swallow it
but
goddamnit
nearly two hours in the kitchen chopping washing stirring and
and
and
i get up. i'm done.
why on earth am i crying?
i go out. sit down. let it fall.
it's good.
