White Noise Poem by Charlotte Henson

Like white noise, our minds went blank
And seeing red became too clichéd - an understatement for us.
The room, a mess which only enraged us further,
Like a state of mind with the curtains strewn
Across the place, slashed,
Pupils flashing morse code. Happiness
Crawled under the sofa where she lay, quivering,
Arms wrapped around herself and one of us
Would reach under and grab her hair, toss her about
Screaming accusations.

Afterwards, I would coax her out from under the sofa,
Stroke her hair when she would sob.
It'll be okay, baby,
We'll be okay.