This is not broken, this is normal. I put on my headphones watching things on the internet to drown out the screaming. Every thrown object a bruise on my heart, every slammed door a piece of it falls. I am good at hiding it by now; the same way I'm good at hiding my battle scars. I am drug in the middle like a garbage bag across the yard. My fathers voice plays on repeat in my head; his hand I cannot unsee. Its time for us to leave. I feel nothing, I will forgive them like I forgave everyone else anyway.