A pot boiling over. The washing machine beeping that it finished. A toddlers delighted squeals running around chasing the cat.
Most nights sounded like this. The TV blaring the soundtrack to the movie Frozen, or Frozen 2. Doesn’t really matter which one. Nobody’s watching it anyway.
“How was your day?” “Yep fine-“ I started, but was cut off by screams of a toddler who had tried to grab the cats tail one too many times and got the business end of its claws.
Tears, screams. Big feelings and small scratches. They never know what hurts more: the small red mark on their arm, or their bruised ego that maybe the cat gets a little annoyed.
Cuddles and soothing, letting the big feeling be heard, and slowly, one by one, the noises fade.
The TV is turned down. The stove is turned off, and the exhaust as well. The washing machine is turned off.
Breathe in, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.
Our friendship begins it’s inevitable fizzle A platonic spark left marooned I’m left thinking about how it could have been Every night instead of every moon
It’s something we pondered Something we dreamed Something alleged but never seen
And now Surely the door must be closed Surely the light has been put out
Alone I sit Alone I wonder In the end we only regret the chances we don’t take
