PARRICIDE

“No more piano playing!”,

her father forced her

so, so firmly

that she just decided

to painfully swallow

every single key.

That way she kept

her music for herself,

humming tune

after tune

after tune,

one day

after the other,

very silently

after lunch,

quite calmly

after dinner,

before going to bed.

Once there,

all the lyrics

became poetry in her mind,

but that

her father did not know

as his heart and soul,

soft remains then

inside a puddle

of thick blood,

were now

as they should have

always been:

upside down.