The Fights Next Door

We always try our best to remember

the way we want things to be seen

like the way things should have been

and seeing things through

has begun to make people laugh

and question our reasons,

question our responses.

We’ve become so conditioned not to trust them

that we’ve stopped trusting each other

now divided by districts

where those landmines never surface

And we never know where to place our feet.

we just drift

in and out of friendships and lovers

until all we have left are our acquaintances.

I can hear them fighting downstairs

and I recognize one of their voices

both of them calling out to be heard

as words smash against each other

and forget that everyone around

can already hear every single word.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: