Toasted pine nuts

I went three days without yelling at my family

On the fourth day, my back pain was bothering me

And I had a bad day at work

And my daughter wanted me to pay attention to her

I was toasting pine nuts in the cast iron

But she kept asking and asking

And her pregnant mom was ignoring her

Because she was filling out kindergarten enrollment forms

And I took a breath and tried to be good to my daughter

So I turned off the stove and followed her to the living room

But as I lay on the sofa and looked at her

I saw that she was dirty from pre-school

And I noticed all the stains on our couch that

I couldn’t clean because of my back pain

And I hated that it was linen and that we’d bought it

And my daughter kept making noise, playing

And I stewed and told myself don’t do it

But she was loud and jumped on the couch

I shouted that the game was over, and she’s dirty

And she got sad and went upstairs

My pregnant wife followed

I finished the pine nuts

Then I ate dinner by myself, frustrated by my weakness

And I almost bit the part of my bottom lip that I had

Bit the week before, which had only

Just shrunk to normal size

And that worried me

I didn’t want to bite my bottom lip again

Why do I keep biting my lip?

And then my daughter came downstairs

And my pregnant wife

And they asked why I hadn’t made them plates

And it reminded me that I was upset

And I told them to make their own plates

But I said it without yelling

And I ate and thought that I should watch the game

Because that would make me feel better

And be a good way to avoid my family

And then I bit my bottom lip and nearly screamed

I jerked out of my seat, hurried to the sink

And dumped my bowl in it

And ignored my family

And went upstairs

And thought of killing myself

And then, I thought of how I would do it

And then, I held my breath to see what it might feel like to be close to death

And then, I took a shower and calmed myself

And then, I did stretches and relaxed myself

And then, I wrote a poem to express myself

But before I finished, I heard my daughter yelling at her mother

Something about washing her hands

And they argued

And I felt my swelling bottom lip

And my back pain

And the dirty dishes

And the unfinished poem

And I thought of what’s to happen next

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The snow is black