Strange hands to comfort Me

I don’t like seeing my dad drunk, I don’t understand it, he is not supposed to be a staggering mess of alcohol.
the other guests smile
their lips a litte strained at the edges
Their eyes cold and smirking
my dad laughs
sudden and loud
his laugh is one big word
a noise that echos in my head
my smile strained even as I laugh
short like my fathers but not
loud
my laugh is like their eyes
that smirk
He sways this way and that
excited and flushed
a boy again sitting with the grownups
his face rosy his eyes red his wine crimson
a noise again
a crash
the splintered pieces of a glass
full of white grape
a stain like water
I don’t remember where the glass fell
on the floor
the table
I just remember the hand
one excited flurish
a boy
who doesn’t know what right or wrong is
who only wants to play
only one though
only one looked shocked
his eyes bulging
his mouth a gaping hole
for only a second
a minute
the rest smiled
my father laughed
I don’t know him
as he pats my back
A stranger’s hand to comfort me

Strange hands to comfort Me

Adrianna Ruvina

Joined December 2007

  • Artist
    Notes
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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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