Domesticity
I’ve found comfort in domesticity,
Peeling potatoes at one a.m., barefoot in the kitchen.
The one light, the harsh orange glow of streetlights,
Seeping through the open window,
The curtains softly swaying, casting monsters on the walls.
I had an epiphany yesterday,
Buying disinfectant on aisle eight,
Staring at products to make my tiles whiter,
And the stove to smell like limes.
I thought about how I’m getting older.
The things that once amused me, they don’t anymore.
Lately, I’ve outgrown people, places, and expectations.
I realize I won’t stay where there’s no you,
That I am not what you want, nor you what I deserve.
And yet, the love I feel for you is real and undeniable,
But as real as it is, I know someday,
I will grow out of you too.
I will shed these ten months of cruelty and pain,
Till I’m clean and far away,
Leaving it all behind in the quiet of this kitchen.