I collect dirt on Tuesdays
to annoy my parents on Thursdays
As I ram it down my throat twenty minutes before a family dinner
“Too full to eat another bite”
And then pat my stomach for good measure
No one questions the dust beneath my fingernails
Or the sand that coats my teeth
“A new fad you’re too old to understand”
Laughter
My finger wiggles its way between my lips as my teeth rip through two months of hard work
spitting the remainder on the floor
“So can I leave”
They don’t stop the forks from hitting the plate with a loud crash
or the smacking, spit flying across the table to land on my unwanted chicken
I stir it with my mash potatoes, pretend its a new dressing
Its better than gravy I can assure you
My mind seems to say,
before I shovel a spoon full into my mouth
I let it roll around in in my gums before swallowing
it goes down in pieces, no smooth transition
“Delicious”
A fork is pointed towards me, saliva coats its tip
I lick my lips
“Yeah, it took me all day to finish, I knew you would like it”
Laughter
My leg jumps at the sound hitting the table with every audible chew
chattered tooth, mingling with metal
I can hear an earthquake rumbling up my throat
But I swallow it down, like my morning vitamins
less healthy I know
But what else could I do to soothe my nerves
exploding like fireworks underneath my skin
I drink more water
Someone made a joke about my past mistakes
Laughter
I pop my neck and feel it sprain
Not before I laugh too
it’s bitter to my ears, too loud, too much
So, I stop the laughter with a piece of casserole
that seems to drip down my chin messier then I intended
Laughter
My sister finishes, silverware banging on an empty plate with purpose, silence,
an announcement: “I’m finished first”
No, words just subtle acknowledgment
The chair imprinting holes in the floor screeches back
Another does the same and another
I count below my breathe four in total
There is no noise,
the silence becomes friendly
It sits with me for the remainder of my meal
Its funny I know choked by noise
to be caressed by the quiet
but even I couldn’t resist the small giggle escaping my clenched teeth
Soft
Just a whisper above a breathe,
but sweet in this empty space
Dude, I love this. Like, I don’t if I fully understand but I liked how it made me feel when I read it. The narrator seems concerned about the other people at the table, but also detached and maybe a little crazy? But then again, maybe not crazy but just affected and it’s the other people who have driven them to this. Because the others were laughing the most. I don’t know, but I like this a lot. Great piece!
Is dirt a metaphor? I was just wondering because I really enjoyed this piece and I wanted to know if I was taking it too literally. The use of things that are sort of gross or nasty, with use of the words soft, sweet, etc., that was a nice variation. Great post.
This is so weird in the most beautiful way, and it’s specific and gritty and absolutely fantastic. I love it.