Split in Half

Image by Bessi from Pixabay

When a home is in war
all soldiers hold fort.
You move to Fathers’ hand,
I clutch Mothers’ leg.
You watch his shame
while I hold
her broken trust.
A fort divided;
you plead his case,
I slam the door.
I keep whispering
‘divorce’ in her ear,
a subtle chance
for peace.
You delete every
letter from vocabulary;
refuse to utter
a word that could
destroy our lives.
‘La la la la’
echoes down the hall
to avoid all sound
of battle.
You lock
yourself in a cupboard,
see if a rescue mission
would catch wind.
You climb
from captivity
48 hours later;
not a soul noticed
your absence.
I play metal
at the sound of lightning.
Storm through the house
pulling shelves,
searching
for a love we lost.
Mother
hasn’t moved in a week;
I would crawl
into her bed at night,
check for gentle breathe.
Father has been
roaming the streets
at midnight,
cursing the sky
for his own sins.
You sent
our dog on his trail.
Came limping
on return;
caught the fever that
tore a family apart.
I hear your mind
smash against the wall,
think of all
the ways to
mend broken.
You hold
vigil for ten days;
lose six pounds
and every shred of sanity.
I feel the heavy weight
of despair sink its teeth.
Father moved his suitcase,
locked away in a home
I will never find.
Mother grew pale,
wraps a
fragile hand
around my wrist.
I sank with her grief;
felt every bruise
nestle in my chest.
You run through the streets
until your knees buckle
under Fathers’ abandonment.
Did you think you could
split a child in half
without a fee?

Guest Poet

Cherish Osborne

Cherish Osborne is a Poet and Author of four poetry books. She infuses her writing with a comprehensive understanding of the human condition. Love is the foundation of her poetry, expressing passion through language. This poem is an excerpt from Blue Moon Horizon. Visit her at cherishosborne.com.

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