I memorised this house’s percussion
Before I learned to speak
Survival dictated it
My bedroom door doesn’t lock
None of them do
A house of false privacy
Where boundaries exist only in theory
So I learned to barricade myself with silence instead
To make myself so quiet that they forget I’m here
To breathe so softly that the air around me remains undisturbed
I became a ghost in my own home long before I learned to detach
The walls are thin enough that voices carry
But thick enough that words get muffled
Just the tone remains
Sharp
Accusatory
Defensive
Pleading
A symphony of dysfunction in four-part disharmony
I press my ear against the cool plaster sometimes
To feel the vibrations
Anger has a particular frequency
It rattles your molars if you press your jaw to the wall just right
A house full of translators for people standing three feet apart