there’s an image
of you
forever ingrained
into my mind

i am four
you are drunk
and your stereo
is blasting

touch
peel
and stand

(as i will forever
associate
this song
with you)

and i
am sitting on the floor
with the hideous
brown
carpet

playing with my cars
and the bright
orange
race tracks

(the ones
that you put together
yourself
before they put a block
on children’s
creativity)

and you are cleaning
and i am misbehaving
and i don’t know
what i’m doing
but it
must be bad

because
(and i remember this
quite clearly)
you screamed
and pulled at your hair
and stuck a
quivering finger
and the flimsy
plaster
board
and you said

“if you
don’t stop
i’m going
to bang
my head
against
that wall
until
it bleeds”

and i cried
not because you yelled
but because i was scared
for you

and years later
i look back on that
and i know
exactly
how
you
felt.