{"id":46269,"date":"2019-06-22T09:41:05","date_gmt":"2019-06-22T13:41:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=46269"},"modified":"2019-06-22T09:41:05","modified_gmt":"2019-06-22T13:41:05","slug":"just-stop-yelling","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2019\/06\/just-stop-yelling\/","title":{"rendered":"Just Stop Yelling"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Two rooms away<\/p>\n<p>Enough to muffle, never enough to silence<\/p>\n<p>The tone carries through; Frost&#8217;s sound of sense<\/p>\n<p>But snarled, sharpened, and lacerating<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Frustration meeting rage, puberty facing age<\/p>\n<p>Mother versus father, father versus son<\/p>\n<p>Never me, though. I only listen<\/p>\n<p>I can&#8217;t drown out that rhythm of venom, that cadence of wrath<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Slammed door, sarcastic greeting, drunken retort,<\/p>\n<p>nasty reply, escalating insult, menacing pause,<\/p>\n<p>and before ten minutes are out they&#8217;ve found eachother&#8217;s throats,<\/p>\n<p>my hands have found my ears and my tears, my eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Nobody knows you like your family.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I get it.\u00a0 I understand the sides, the reasons, the tactics,<\/p>\n<p>And the agonizing, fundamental, waste of it.<\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s no point to this battle; no growth, no change.<\/p>\n<p>No speeches or screeches or infuriating &#8220;SO&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Can mend what&#8217;s broken in them, in us.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Tonight could be different.\u00a0 I could march in there.<\/p>\n<p>I could tell them where they&#8217;re wrong and right and wrong-est.<\/p>\n<p>But they&#8217;d see it as another army on the field.<\/p>\n<p>So why join a war with no winners?<\/p>\n<p>How do you pick a side when you love both and hate the fucking fight?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>And so I listen to the people I love most in this world rip into one another,<\/p>\n<p>Their barbs and shouts and pronouncements muddled and blurred by wood and drywall.<\/p>\n<p>Biting back tears and words both<\/p>\n<p>Two rooms away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Two rooms away Enough to muffle, never enough to silence The tone carries through; Frost&#8217;s sound of sense But snarled, sharpened, and lacerating &nbsp; Frustration meeting rage, puberty facing age Mother versus father, father versus son Never me, though. I only listen I can&#8217;t drown&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1262,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-46269","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/46269","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1262"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=46269"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/46269\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":46667,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/46269\/revisions\/46667"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=46269"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=46269"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=46269"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}