Katherine Belt

I wish I could sleep.

They’re fighting again, voices

raised, hammering into my

brain, words I shouldn’t know.

I wish I could run.

The jackhammer on concrete, dogs

barking, Teeth grinding over

words, like rusted cogs, mechanically

pounding in my ear.

I wish someone would knock me out.

The fighting escalates, cruel

tones, I hear my name

mentioned, Is it my fault?

It’s always my fault.

I wish I were in a coma.

A crash slices the air, silence

follows, listen closely and hear

sobbing, feet pounding, to my door.

Huddle under the covers.

I wish I were dead.

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