Mother left the
room
ten minutes ago

𝐈
I heard her
walk to the bathroom
and turn on the tap

I heard the water fall
reluctantly, like it
hated being in this house

I heard every groan
of every pipe-
they must hate it here too

𝐈𝐈
Tonight they fed me
the sickly sweet taste of
canned corn kernels

Mother turned it
in the pan, over and over,
licking the steam droplets off her lips

I didn't brush my teeth this time-
I want to taste dinner
for as long as I could

𝐈𝐈𝐈
Father came in
after dawn,
smelling of sweat and soot

Dirty laundry piles
at the foot of my bed, in
musty, mildewed mounds

He left
pinecones in
his coat pockets


𝐈𝐕
Five days ago:
my Sister washed
our syrup-stained sheets

Mother tucked them into
the bedpost
until they grew taut

They don't loosen,
no matter how hard
I tug at the mattress corners

𝐕
I know the sun
will rise tomorrow
at 6am

I will rise from
this bed,
these blankets

I will fall to
my knees
and pray