I don't know where my temper went. (I lost it in an argument.)
Everyone, please, just stop howling.
There are so many noises in this house. People drop things, like plates, and groceries, and water, and tempers. They drop their tempers in the kitchen and their tempers are lost by the time they get to the living room. Hopefully one day they'll find the time to pick up the pieces underneath the furniture in this house, and glue the fragments back together with all the energy it took to drop, lose, and break them in the first place.
All I want to hear is the voice of a friend on the phone, their laughs and words pleasantly, personally electronified by the many wires stretching from house to house. Or maybe, all I want to fill my ears is the soft music of a guitar and a broken brain, heart, and the organs that occupy the space between them.
The sound of an angry family under the influence of each other is not music, or an unexpected phone call, or anything else I'd appreciate right now, or ever.
There are so many noises in this house. People drop things, like plates, and groceries, and water, and tempers. They drop their tempers in the kitchen and their tempers are lost by the time they get to the living room. Hopefully one day they'll find the time to pick up the pieces underneath the furniture in this house, and glue the fragments back together with all the energy it took to drop, lose, and break them in the first place.
All I want to hear is the voice of a friend on the phone, their laughs and words pleasantly, personally electronified by the many wires stretching from house to house. Or maybe, all I want to fill my ears is the soft music of a guitar and a broken brain, heart, and the organs that occupy the space between them.
The sound of an angry family under the influence of each other is not music, or an unexpected phone call, or anything else I'd appreciate right now, or ever.