Voices of A Family

Nights left alone,

whispered screams reaching

through walls

to young ears.

Mother,

eyes glued to screens,

body morphed to cushion.

A sharp tongue cuts at

the little voice tugging

on soft sleeves.

Father,

beer cans, whiskey bottles

white knuckled.

Cigarette in one corner,

joint in the other.

Ravings of madman answer

the little voice at the door.

Neither loving nor

hateful words said,

leaving cavernous holes

in a little heart.

Desperate cries for connection

only heard in silent tears.

No loving hands

to wipe away

years of pain.

Time soars by. 

A nest left empty,

whispered screams

heard no more, 

but echoes remain.

Voices regather,

a weekend of laughs,

a sound long forgotten,

shared once more.

Minus one.

Whispers of whiskey,

a voice, broken, sorrowful,

calls so many miles away.

A voice searching for comfort,

searching for lost love.

A voice wanting to be

a family again.