The Birthday Party

#TRIGGERWARNING

The girls were there, five in all,

Giggling, snarking, being 13

The house was set, the games were planned

All was well in birthday-land.

But upstairs was another story

Patriarch poised, bottle in hand

Benadryl, he took, All that he had. Vodka chaser.

He refused to sit, he could barely stand.

Betwixt two worlds stood one woman

Mother, wife, negotiator, mediator, split in two as though

Cleaved in half with a gleaming Chef’s knife

Right from her own well-appointed kitchen.

How did it end? One couldn’t call the ambulance, that wouldn’t do,

Not with a birthday party underway, girls underfoot to

Tell their parents how much we’d failed.

Wouldn’t that make a nice gossipy tale.

The woman is sure she can keep him at bay

While the rest of the party is underway.

It’s not her first time, won’t be her last

In preventing a suicide warning blast.

Through sheer force of will

She holds the house together

She’ll manage the house for all she’s worth

For the house and the children are her tether.

As for the husband, he’ll endure,

Not in his heart, his mind unsure.

Yet past this cry, he’ll linger on,

Biding his time as decades are drawn.

What the girls would have looked like, if they were pets