Baring Soul

my dad is in the kitchen
baring his soul to my mom
there is an empty silence
where the thoughts float on

i'm in my bedroom naked
my ears pressed to the ground
i hear the silence aching
underneath the thoughts of sound

there is no resolution
no buffer for the fist
to soften the blow felt when one is relaying
and the other is disinterested

in my heart i can relate with
the need to share the tune
that ripples in from the tidal wave
and finds the oddest moment to spew

in that, i am my father
in that, i am my mom
the one who bears his heart
and the one who ignores the heart's pound

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