where have you been

lately, i've been hiding.

the world has been loud

and much like a child

i've hidden myself under a table

waiting for the shouting to die down.

though it hasn't quieted for months, now.

voices ricocheting like bullets —

they crack into the walls,

they rip apart the family dog.

they breach every surface until i know

nothing is safe, anymore.

not the table where i eat.

not the history in my walls.

not even the family dog is spared this fate;

and you know that's where a family

keeps its love safe.

so yes, i'm hiding today.

cowering beneath my home, my grave.

while the world crumbles around me and

the table becomes my tomb;

i wonder, again, if it will end soon.

i don't know what else to do.