Poetry by a.c.t

he is sitting at the kitchen table

and I can hear the fridge humming

this air is thick with tension, please,

I wish you would just cut me into pieces

with that dull dinner knife you use

please cut me into pieces

until I am so small that I can fit

up in the cracks in the ceiling

or into the grooves of our tiled floor

because I cannot stand to share a meal with you

where neither of us

dare speak a word



Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

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