crash

I guess I saw it coming. I guess a piece of me knew that it was bound to happen. That the peace couldn't be kept for long because so much had been brewing before and it was just a matter of time before the pot boiled and it spilled onto the floor, burning any and all skin in the way. I just thought it would take less time to heat up, to get to a point where haste would only bring us closer to the disaster itself.

One by one, I saw as everything came crashing down onto the floor, threatening to disrupt the peace that was never there.

When we stacked the pots, pans, dishes, and cups... I was waiting for the day that they would crack on the marble floor, testing their strength. They never stood a chance. They never stood a chance against the ruthlessness of the humans clashing around in the kitchen. As the shouts bounced from dish to dish, from cup to cup, from pot to pan, they each teetered little by little. Not too noticeable. It never is.

And as we breathed in to sigh at the mess we had created with our words, never to be taken back, all hell broke out as everything came crashing down.

But it wasn't worth it anymore. Picking up each shard, each handle, each piece... it was too much for too little.