When I walk downstairs,
I know I'm interrupting something unholy.
Each step I take, they put their weapons away
their angry words are replaced with
a faked joy that I have grown to know.
It feels like I'm wading through broken glass
as I reach for a glass of water.
Walls aren't soundproof and just like
each insult they throw at each other
over something so minuscule,
but they claim it's not arguing.
Just a slight misunderstanding,
but it's not misunderstanding
when it's been going on for a whole month.