We Belong in a Garden

At 8 o’clock we finish dinner
I feel soft
I feel light
And like i can stay up all night on one sip of coffee i stole from my father three mornings ago
The walls of my room smell like wet paint and working breath though this house was built before the world even knew i existed
I’ve lived here for years but i do not feel at home

This is a crime

At 8 o’clock we finish dinner
I fall upwards into my room and
The music i am playing turns mad and purple sounds split my ears apart and
I am bathing in guilt like epsom salts

My father works with no breaks except his bones
I hear them falling apart when he comes home
And my sisters are lilies, kind and soft light gives itself to them like they are royalty
My parents branch out like lilac lungs breathing from the same roots
I have never seen more love in two hearts

And i am a flower, too.

We belong in a garden

This is not home

It all leaves me wishing for a flood.

-- Cali T., 15