A young man full of sorrow comes home.
And puts his huge bag on the floor.
Now he puts his gun, knife, pills, liquor and weed on the table.
He places the words “if you want something, take it from someone who does” exactly as his father said them when he was still a little boy.
He spreads the cold blood of of the men he killed, the loud screams of the boys he robbed, the salty tears of the women he has beaten and raped on the table.
Along with his bitter trauma, he puts the demons that smell like the vodka he tries to drown them in on the table as well.
Lastly, he puts his longing for the sweet release of death on the crowded table.
Bending, but not breaking, the table holds the weight of all his sins and dark thoughts.