30/30 - #4

I hear her yelling
spitting frustration out
caused by too much pills
her head splitting open next to her shriveled kidneys
and her heart long lost in the Pacific
from the streets of Chợ Lớn to the paved ones of California urban suburbia

She cleans dog hair out of dirty dog blankets
as she chastises
and chastises
and chastises
and chastises
and yells
and yells
and yells
with all her energy
her pain
her tears
her chronic splinters
her undying love contradictions
so I can finally hear her

But I don't.
All I hear are pins thrown at my cushioned heart
Sucking it in and if I move it might pierce deeper
So I stop moving.
I stop listening.
I walk away pin-full.