Glasses shiver and cutlery quivers
This kitchen fractures into tiny slivers
Under the power of her fury.

Knives dance in her palm
As she decides which direction
They should hurl
And curl their sweet blades.

She wasn't put here to hate
But even her steadfast loyalty bends
And breaks under the pressure
Of this house.

They'll destroy each other and break all links
Her pile of bones atop the kitchen sink.

And when I become that witch
I bitch-spit on all I once loved
Knit scarves to bind babies' breaths
And tear toenails from tender toes.

Baby if I'm everything I must also be nothing
What hangs over us is a hand spun net for hearts
That plan their lonely escape
When it all turns sour.

Somehow I've learnt how
To breathe myself into hysteria
Minutes before falling asleep
Because I'm thinking of all this shit
But then
I'm safe and happy realising
That I know what I want
And that all I want
Is to die
Ha ha aha