maybe it’s time for you to go

dinner isn’t ready. it won’t be. the stove is broken, the heating element snapped. there isn’t a clean dish in this house and we’re out of soap anyway. our food has spoiled. each veggie stalk moldy. fruit turned to mush. the bread ready for a penicillin harvest. there’s blood in the freezer, the meat thawed and weeping. the fridge has thrown in the towel. besides, the cutting board cracked. our knives all dull. the bulb in the kitchen burned out. dining together, it cannot be, the table covered with empty. i can’t see the floor, through the mud and the leaves. the bristles all bent, so sweeping is out anyway. when will you realize it just will not work? there’s nothing i can do to fix this.

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