My fault

A breath, tear, hug, and kiss…a yell, scream, gasp, and a broken heart waiting to be sown together with a “sorry” and an “I love you.”

Where is the good thing? Where is the end of the ribbon? Where is the beginning of a circle? Of being an only child and having no one to talk to when my parents fight…

It’s all my fault and no one else’s. It’s my fault that the thunder strikes right beside us…my fault that the A.C doesn’t work…and my fault that the sun sets too early.

That’s not what my parents think, my mom says it’s my dad and my dad says it’s my mom, but on the inside it is mine, they won’t admit it but only blame each other. And I ask again

Where is the good thing? Where is the end of the ribbon? Where is the beginning of a circle? In fighting over and over again…