i. remembrance

you’re riding your bicycle &
mother cheers you on but
you’ve never seen her smile
since the thing that swallowed father whole
& just as you turn around to capture her face
to burn this second in time
you fail to see the stone that tumbles you
so when she kisses your scar, you
pray to mother to forgive your pertinence.

 

ii. forgetting

in your nightmare you will yourself to stay in control
just focus on the camera flash & ignore
the creeping darkness that envelops the room
your baby sister is in your lap
& the heat of mother’s face cradles your shoulder
but your feet is freaking hot
& the flash gets faster
& your sister’s weight gets heavier
& you turn around to ask for your father
but this dream is strange

this isn’t how it was supposed to go.

 

iii. reality

the day ma died, a hole opened in your head
you heard over the phone how she bled all over
& you wrote your first poem about how she
lived her last minutes becoming a volcano
right before father screams & becomes a boy
you recall how your eyes twitched in school &
your crush said it meant you will see something
that instant a crow perched on the window pane,
stared so intensely at you & flew away

you blame yourself: not for Pa’s screams you still hear in your waking moments or your sister’s tear-laden questions but for that crow. you should have trapped it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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