when I was a child. They never stopped; although
logically, they must have slept sometime, but it
seems as if the screaming never stopped.
I remember feeling like I should be able to make
them stop, that if I could be good enough, quiet
enough, smart enough, then I could make them love
one another.
I felt as if I was the battleground that they fought upon.
The screaming ground itself into me until it changed
who I was in some fundamental way.
In my relationship with my parents, I became the
parent, the caretaker, the peacemaker. I thought that
I could make them stop somehow.
Of course, it never worked.
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