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In the Wake
School ends.
You walk back home, exhausted.
Enter through the front door
of the place you’re supposed to call home,
down the hallway
to your room.
Deliberately avoid
the cracked mirror
propped up
on your nightstand.
Take off your backpack smudged with dirt
after you enter
and set it on the creaking chair
next to the broken desk.
Relief for your shoulders.
You sigh.
Turn away from your room and
you exit,
shoes silent on the muddy carpet floor,
door creaking,
slanted pictures on the stained walls staring as you walk
to the living room.
Empty.
No angry family members,
relief for your emotional fatigue.
You sigh.
Trudge past the
unfinished cans of Coke on the floor,
dirty paper plates smeared with the
remains of microwave pizza,
thick layers of dog hair on the sofa,
and crumbled pages of late homework.
You stand in front of
the fridge. Hoping.
Then you open it,
it’s cold and empty
but it’s bright,
with a single box
of food
on the shelf.
So much better than nothing.
Relief for your hunger.
You sigh.
Take out the hot microwaved burrito
moments later,
hold it carefully
like a lifeline
in your hands
because there are no paper plates left.
Shuffle to the couch,
move unpaid bills and
dog hairs and
plates and
coke cans and
oversized,
unwashed clothes
out of the way
so you can
finally
sit on the sofa.
Relief for your legs.
You sigh.
Find the remote.
Push the power.
Turn on the TV.
And switch the channel
to your favorite show.
You eat while you watch.
And you,
finally,
smile.
The formulaic episodes,
the rhythmic timing of jokes,
so familiar.
The taste of bland burrito,
the laugh tracks and
dramatic irony,
So familiar.
But
Three hours later
you are in your room again,
silent,
pretending to do homework
because
down the hall
in the living room
is yelling. Throwing. Fighting.
So loud it’s
impossible to ignore.
That night
like all the other nights
you
whisper to yourself,
hug yourself,
think to yourself,
I’ll be okay.
That night
like all the other nights
you
put yourself to bed
like your parents never did.
That night
you
look at the last of sun
falling below the horizon
and you smile,
one more time,
knowing that
at least I made it through today.
You sigh.
And that night
you close your eyes
as if that could drown out the yelling
beyond your bedroom door.
The day ends.
You drift off to sleep, exhausted.
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Even in the face of obstacles we can’t control, we have the power to endure and keep going. That’s what matters most.