Jess Norris

 

Did you know the walls were thin?

I heard every argument.

Every wail.

 

Every cry.

For eighteen years I pretended I couldn’t hear you.

Now I fall asleep at night,

reliving all those years where screaming and fighting

was my only representation

 

of what love looks like.

I often sit up in the darkness,

wondering if I’m damned to the same fate;

if love is even worth a damn.