Khesrau Behroz

Slowly Breaking


My father used to call me out when I was losing empathy. I can’t sleep at night, you know? We got some food and we were sitting in the car and he stared through the window pane and he could not look at me, for he knew I was drunk and slowly breaking. And when he finally asked how I was feeling, I fell into pieces, poisoned, scattered around for him to pick up.