A Battle
The constant clink
of your fork against the half empty
dinner plate.
Shoving the food you
so desperately wanted down,
attention staggering
to the hall–
the hall where there’s a lock
on the door of the bathroom.
Where there’s enough
space between the dinner table
and the toilet,
that the tv could drown out…
You forcefully scrap the remains
from your dish and claw
the wooden chair.
Show after show playing
in the neighboring room.
If you just sit there
long enough,
the urge might just
Vanish.
3 thoughts on "A Battle"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
I loved how you set up the beginning line! The “clink” made me think of armor at first, which I think is the point. Great job!
The diction (“scrap,” “claw”), details (lock), and last stanza sure create a vivid picture of the battle between the you and the speaker.
The vivid images you use makes me want to smack the fork right out of this person’s hand. Good job of putting us in this moment.