Poetry

When I came home that day, 
I saw you with that razor—
right next to Mom’s neck.
Her tears were falling
as anger coursed through my body, 
forcing me to do what I regret.
 
I tackled you to the floor, 
ignoring Mom’s calls.
I blindly threw the punches—
hoping you’d do more than just fall.
 
Then I heard her voice
echo through my head.
“It’s all right, son! 
Calm down! ” she begged.
 
I staggered off of you.
I couldn’t believe what I’d done.
I ran to my room
and my destruction had begun.