Chickadee

Don't move or you'll scare away the birds
Their songs drown out the screaming downstairs
I want to get away from this
The things I can't unsee
My mother's tears
I can't look at her anymore
My father in a jar
I don't go in that room anymore

Too much has happened
For peace to feel real
My home is desaturated
My clothes became thin

You are becoming alcoholic
Just like your uncle
Your father's father
His father before him
Hurt is passed down through blood
Circulating and spilled

Do birds hurt their children with purpose