I Know

I know the sound of drunken steps

the difference between good drunk and bad drunk

I know how to lie in the dark, listening.

I know how to pretend it's not happening

I know how to tense my shoulders, and keep it all together

I know how to rush to protect, and how to run, and drive into the night

I know how to sleep in parked cars; and the sound of the key,

and the stumbling and mumbling in the kitchen.

I know the slightest slur in the voice

and how to interpret steps; happy or angry

I know how to hold children in the dark, and breathe, and pretend to sleep heart pounding.

I know the shadow at the door, and the swaying form, menacing in silence

I know the demands and tiptoeing on eggshells

I know the counting

of glasses

of pints

of bottles

I know the pleading, I know the hope, I know the promises, I know the dust of broken promises.

I know the picking up of pieces and starting again - and again - and again.

I know of house moves and new hope and dashed hope and more pieces.

I know of broken sundays and broken week nights, of frightened children and missing dogs

I know how it feels to have something broken to teach you a lesson.

I know how it feels to have your children broken to teach you a lesson

I know the pathetic and grateful thankfulness for small crumbs of kindness scattered amid the ashes.

I know the pulling and the pushing, the tussles at the door, the pounding heart and the holding erect, as you watch your dreams disappear.

I know the numbness and the aching, the anger and the breaking, the chasing in the garden in the dark.

I know the talking and the meetings and the desperation.

I know the helplessness of holding a newborn in front of a drunk; and the pleading and the tears and the loneliness.

I know the lies and the truths and every shade in between.

I know the put-downs; I know the pissing on the floor; I know the mornings and the "sorries" and the "what's wrong"?s

I know the shame of grown men fighting in the street in front of children.

I know neighbours knocking on walls, I know neighbours turning cool, I know my heart breaking again and again.

I know new hope and new dreams and rising above it all.

I know pretending, and spaces in the bed getting larger and larger and larger.

I know cars driving away and cars coming back, I know accidents and broken things, and stories weaved to make things right, and terror coursing through the night.

I know the grey morning light, and desperation, and having nowhere to go. I know the sound and feel of drunken stupor, and knowing when its safe to tiptoe back inside.

I know the sound of drunk driving, the difference in speed and the turn in the drive. How the footsteps emerge and approach the door. I know swaying in the hall, I know calling out of children in the night.

I know the screaming, I know the meaning of trying to break through. I know fear, I know dread, I know being afraid to go home. I know being afraid to leave home.

 I know courts, and orders.

I know sadness, and endings, and bags packed, and angry departures, and the flinging of words, and the flinging of rings.

 I know never, never, never again.

(30.8.08)