To the front door of my apartment,
And see that I’ve left it unlocked.
I’m reminded of the breeze on my face
That only midnight can produce,
From an open front door,
While my father slept like a baby
On the couch of our living room.
I knew when my mother would wake up,
She’d bitch and moan at him,
Like when there’d be a new black hole,
The size of a cigarette end, on our green couch.
But I’d never close our door.
I’d stand in front of him and count how many
Breaths I could take before his singular slow heave.
Sometimes It’d take so long I’d practice
How I’d tell people I watched him die
The next day at school.
But instead he cut his hair,
And went back to work.
And sold his 89 Fat Boy,
And he’s been infinitely more
Miserable since. Now I nullify the
Agony of having to brush my teeth,
And tie my shoes every day.
And you’d be doing like me,
Had you seen how peacefully
My father slept fucked up out of his mind.
Lilly Mouradyan is an Armenian American living in Los Angeles. She recently graduated from UC Berkeley and currently works in a hair salon. She has a cat named Rusty, named after Rusty James in the movie Rumble Fish.
