The sound of their voices clashed in chaos,
yet again, my parents were cross.
I grazed my fork against the mashed potatoes.
And some lying cold, sat across the sides of the tables.
Our house had walls and a roof,
And screams louder than a dogs woof.
I had been here plenty times, foods left untouched,
And arguments left unpatched.
as my mind and the world around me unfolding as they detach.
I had...