April 11, 2021.
when she fell apart, it looked like a warzone
from floors you could eat off of, to an overflowing dirty sink
it was no place to raise children, i knew that as a pre-teen
children's toys, roaches, and stiff food
pop cans on the ground
old blankets used as curtains
cigarette ashes leave a taste in your mouth
and i would use my weekends to come over
asking for trash bags and cleaning supplies
looking at the innocence in my neice's and nephew's eyes
and praying pretty lies told to them can amount to a better life
and one day, as i dusted and organized the living room
my sister's husband told me i would make a good wife
that i would make some man very happy
and at the time, i took it as a compliment and hoped he was right
but this was the man who enabled my sister's habits
and relished in his vices, who would drag on about better times
a man knee deep in laziness, ego, and pride
that he couldn't see that children were living in his filth
this was the man who punched holes into walls
who hid abuse so well that he even had me fooled
who begged to be the first person i drank alcohol with
a coward who thinks he's tall
i wish i would have told him that he was a terrible husband
and that he was slowly sucking the soul from his own wife
he can choke on his misogyny laced beer
but i was a child trying to clean up a mess that was not mine
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 296 times
Written on 2021-04-12 at 01:03
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misogyny laced beer
my sister's household used to look pristinewhen she fell apart, it looked like a warzone
from floors you could eat off of, to an overflowing dirty sink
it was no place to raise children, i knew that as a pre-teen
children's toys, roaches, and stiff food
pop cans on the ground
old blankets used as curtains
cigarette ashes leave a taste in your mouth
and i would use my weekends to come over
asking for trash bags and cleaning supplies
looking at the innocence in my neice's and nephew's eyes
and praying pretty lies told to them can amount to a better life
and one day, as i dusted and organized the living room
my sister's husband told me i would make a good wife
that i would make some man very happy
and at the time, i took it as a compliment and hoped he was right
but this was the man who enabled my sister's habits
and relished in his vices, who would drag on about better times
a man knee deep in laziness, ego, and pride
that he couldn't see that children were living in his filth
this was the man who punched holes into walls
who hid abuse so well that he even had me fooled
who begged to be the first person i drank alcohol with
a coward who thinks he's tall
i wish i would have told him that he was a terrible husband
and that he was slowly sucking the soul from his own wife
he can choke on his misogyny laced beer
but i was a child trying to clean up a mess that was not mine
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 296 times
Written on 2021-04-12 at 01:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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