Alone

Right about now, would be a good time for me to scream. I spend most of my weekends in a house where drawers slam, children fall, parents yell, tv's roar, and cars slowly careen by. It drives me crazy to know that my friends are happily depressed in each other's company, while I am alone in this banal, restricted room. Four corners never looked so forlorn, even as I paint them. Movies make me feel even lonelier, watching quarreling lovers make up with a sweet bedtime smoke and pancake. It's impossible not to feel like I want to scream.