Park Benches and Polaroids

Suburban Hikes, part 2

I walk fast down the driveway.

The neighbors across the street

stare me down,

wondering

why the girl

in the yellow dress

is walking so brusquely,

hands balled into fists.

Can they hear my parents

screaming

crying

yelling

the loud music floating down

from my brother's room

the only lights on in the rooms

where my family

quietly wage their battles?

My pace quickens.

I take off my shoes

hard cement under my toes.

I'm breathing too harshly

tears

dripping down my face and then

fuck it,

I'm taking off my shoes.

I run.

Run run run run

down the road and I'm crying

because sometimes my suburban hikes

are fractured, desperate runs

my attempt

to escape my fate

of being trapped in a role I should never have had

to be in.

Everyone on this street probably thinks I'm fucking insane.