Indoors by Stephanie Brown

I knew anger was a seven deadly sin because I knew her.
Rage filled the house, lifted the curtains, fell asleep in the food,
Woke up in the squealing tires of the car
While I lived in my soundproof booth.


When the helping starts, the forgive, please forgive—
You are doomed. Everything you said
can and will be used against you, next session, next sin
If you dare to agree that she behaved badly.
Don't agree! Let her believe she is the sweet fool that she is.
Every honest word, every real thought you had
must not be had.
There is no help, don't fool yourself,


run away, join the circus, hop a freight train, sign on for a sea voyage, hitchhike
       with a stranger

down the highway: there's a reason for stories like this one, and she is the reason.

by Stephanie Brown

featured on Poetry Daily

published in her new book, Domestic Interior (University of Pittsburgh Press)

1 comment

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: