In between us

and happiness

is a tailored door

sealing an ineludible

house of horrors

of screaming shut eyes

that remind us

not of how we lived

but how we died

at every hour…

The children

become what

they’re told

and the love

they are born with

grows cold

Pops loves

the bottle better

so they cry to

God in the form

of love letters

the master of vices,

the actress,

and bed wetter

A Family Dinner

of Dreams

bitterly overcooked

famishedly fighting

in pain,

and every cry overlooked

the mom shrouds

herself in sheets

of victimhood

and purges every

monster

so her young

will listen good

and the monsters

eat their hearts

so they’ll never

love as they should…

laughter burns

the souls in the

house of horrors

and sunlight never

pierces through

and every gash

and every lash

is a hope

in which good days

will come through.

I now revisit

and light candles

in each room

sing and dance

with the children

and tend to every

wound…

and smile

as they eat

unabashedly

from the bread of dreams

and sleep

and sleep

and sleep

so deep

to forget

what took them

in the

house of horrors…