2 AM, middle class suburban track, heavy eyelids, scratchy throat

I smell burnt metal through the base of the door frame

And hear muffled sounds through the walls of overly endorphin-ed misfortuneClick, clank, two spoons, why must I wake from a nightmare and arrive to another?

Lock door, head under covers, Momma, there′s a monster living in my brothers bedroom

We didn't see him at first, but he was always there

Needing only to be fed once to rise from sleep

My pop-pop told me about it, remember?

Warning, a family tree with a half glass of whiskey or a pocketful of crazy

So pick your poison, sweetheart, he said, it will either be your mind or your body

Momma, theres a monster living in my brothers bedroom and I think he′s here to stay

And what are we suppose to say when it looks so much like him?

He has us fooled every time before the eyes sockets sink in

And the fingernails blacken from giving Into temptation

But our eyes stay distracted by our hope, but my sight is readjusting

I'm tired of locking the door and hitting my knees to the floor to pray for a day

That quite frankly, is never gonna happen

I'm tired of convincing you that the monster has moved in and that he′s sick again

But a stubborn gaze can never fall upon something it refuses to see, Momma

Your protection ceased somewhere along the way

You′ve saved lives your entire career, but why can't you save the one

You would give up your own for?

And in fifteen years, you never once turned the lock on the door

From the safety of this block

Yet the crime was already living inside

Irony, I′m a writer Momma, I know it when I see it

Momma, please, hear me

There is a monster living in my brothers bedroom, the smiling face in the gold frames

Is not the same soul staring back at you

Countless years of court trials, accusations of rape, domestic abuse

Overdoses, hospitalizations

Those things sure don't sure like him to anyone that knows him

But holding a gun to a man′s head for the twelve dollars in his pocket didn't either

But Lord knows we tried to make the best of it

I remember the stories my pop-pop told us about our great-great grandfather back home

In Ireland who never came back from war

Last seen with a bottle in his hands, pressed to his lips, walking away

Maybe he′s there, maybe his soul is somewhere with him because

Lord knows he is not in this house any longer

Momma, don't you remember?

This place was once, so, good

Filled with character and unconventionality

While the Best of Elvis' Christmas Hits crackled low in the background along

To warm conversation

But now our 1990′s stereo lay untouched in the closet under rehabilitation catalogs

His basketball?

It sits in the corner of the garage, collecting dust

And I couldn′t tell you his name, but when the devil came, he stayed

And I have seen him take a soul faster than he could say 'I think, I think may need help′

Faster than you could say full ride scholarship

Faster than you could speak any synonym

For the way the light has left his sea glass green eyes

That once sparkled when he made us all laugh

Let me know what you find because I, I still have no words for that

Tell me, have you ever seen a man die five times over?

Ten times over?

Thirty seven times over?

I have

Each failed attempt to get sober another hundred reasons to live inside the memories

Because didn't you know?

Didn′t you know that even monsters count their casualties?

I am sorry for the honesty

But I have carried the broken hearts and body parts of my entire family

The famous sparkle in the eyes of my people has all but dimmed out

And a woman caught me crying in the bathroom at work and said honey

You have such a pretty Face, what else could you possible have to worry about?

And I know she meant it as a compliment, but it didn't feel like one because she said it As if Appearance were truth

As if the way I line my lips determines how much safety I′m able to speak of

As if the roses on the outside of a house make up for the carpets being blood-stained

And the doors being ripped off their frames

So tell me, what do you do when a home crumbles but the house still stands?

And these past nine years I have come to the conclusion that home is a pair of hands

Home is a heartbeat, home is alive

And what truly makes a home is not the color, size or price tag of the four walls

That surround you

But rather the company you keep within them

And Momma, how alive can I ever truly be

If I'm loving a room full of ghosts and calling them Family?

So I guess that means I am leaving, and I'll make my own

I′ll fill the missing pieces of my soul back up with people

Who actually want to learn and grow

So I will take my sister with me when I go

There are still so many lessons of this life that

I cannot yet claim to know, but of this I am certain

I ate my cereal with a fork for the last time this morning

Went looking for a hairbrush and found a syringe for the final time this afternoon

And I will be damned if I lock my bedroom door again from the inside this evening

Because I cannot physically, mentally or emotionally withstand

Another day of walking outside in the morning wearing his NA chips as earrings

They all hurry to lock their doors, shuffle their kids into the car

Its like they see right through me

And I am labeled a child of grief before I even take a sip of my fucking coffee

And I will live like this No longer

And I know that I am strong enough to do this life alone

If I have to because I am my mothers daughter

I was born with freckles on my face and fire in my blood

And when was the last time you′ve seen

Fire feel ashamed of the suburb fireplace in which her

Embers were sparked from?

All they will see is how brightly she shines

When she burns this whole damn place to the ground

And on my worst days, when the pictures of my family that cover every inch of wall Space in my Apartment appear more headstone than memory

I'll steady my shaking hands, look myself in the mirror

And say to the reflection staring back at me

Be gentle with yourself girl, for this life, it didn′t come with instructions

But it does come with Poetry

Momma, there was a monster living in my brothers bedroom, but

My address has changed now

My address has changed now

And I'll help you repaint