Witness

We're in the kitchen when your father arrives
Angry, but trying to hide it for once
Wanting, what he always does.

You fold your arms and stare him down
While I casually murder some ants
Who don't stop stealing my jam.

'We talked about this, Dad. It's not happening.'
You say like you did a thousand times,
Just in my dreams, and yours.

He sees, somehow, that you mean it
Turns, and walks away
And my helplessness goes with him.