family.

i don't know if thats what i could call the people in my house

other wise,

i'd be calling my house a home

it is a warzone

and i am on my own

against my sister,

who is the sniper

shooting stinging, and simmering

comments

supporting my mom, the leuitanent

everything she says goes,

no questions

no conversations

let go of yourself if you don't like it

my brother is more normal

a soldier in the storm

hes not targeted, nor is he aiming

but hes still offected by the war

then there is my dad,

hes the nurse picking people up in stretchers

covering skeletons with a white sheet

underrated;

underappreciated

by most but surely not me

and then there is i

where do i stand in this mess?

im the prisoner they picked up

captured in the middle of night

a cloth gags me

suffocating my words

throwing out my freedom

our relationships are sometimes faulty

but everything works in the end

a deconstructed household

can be put together to make a family

probably