in this house that's not a home the air is grey and thick. the fridge is full but our bellies aren't; they crave love and genuine feeling. voices are raised and the wind whistle, zipping through the dusty windows to egg us on. silence settles in, along with our disdain for each other in this house that's not a home.
I hope you enjoyed this poem! It’s kind of inspired by the poem I posted about a week ago called “Four Walls” (go check it out if you haven’t already!) so if it seems familiar or similar to that, that’s why. I feel like with quarantine and spending so much time at home, family issues and tension that’s been fairly buried for a while are bound to rise up. I wish you all the best- stay healthy!
Brooke
adventures of a typical high school student 