Iraq

What’s the word for when they won’t leave?
They haul hunched shoulders around you, trace floor covering patterns with eyes which don’t meet yours anymore.
That caused the fighting in the first place and now they feel bad?
Terrified you will make them feel this way always now.
Into our house for a fortnight; a fortnight ago. Not good then; now, worse.
Those hunched shoulders at every meal.
Throats are cleared. “No,” they say, “Nothing.”
Until they leave, we can’t even start to rebuild  you and me tore so badly down.
They stoke our pain to prove their absolute responsibility to fix it before they leave.
What do you call it when they won’t leave?