the space between my parents

1999
the space between my parents
used to be filled with love, warmth
and mirth, happiness
and occasional tales of sadness,
financial adversity (forgotten
when they held hands), and fights
(which used to be forgiven
when they kissed), or when they didn’t talk
but communicated through eyes
and loud bursts of laughter.
On the walls, there used to be doodles,
bits of colors, and paint.
There was no food, no money, just a hole
in the roof
but it was home

2019
the space between my parents
is now distant, distance filled with
anger, guilt and regret, unwanted
kids and abortions, destitution
(the only constant in the past 20 years)
and fights aggravated by whispers
and grimaces.
They talk but no one listens
the walls now reek
of screams and cries for help.
Somehow, there is plenty of food,
an air conditioner, and tons of furniture
but it’s just a house now.

Sometimes love isn’t enough.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Editor’s comment and image credit: The abstract painting (unplash.com) is symbolic of a warm structured house but a cold chaotic home.