Ode To That Life

I can’t move.

My Toes.

My Limbs.

My body.

…Are they even there?

I feel myself

As a person,

But I’m just looming

Like a ghost.

...Is that someone else?

Their rib cage?

Their tissue?

Their muscle?

...Is everything scorched?

Ash.

Heart.

Brain.

Dust.

...Is this lonely and aching feeling for the loss of that life?

It scatters and fumbles

Around in this head

Like a dying fish.

Eyes.

Ears.

Cheeks.

Mouth.

My cheeks are warm and wet

Despite the June night chill.

And my body being wrapped into my uncles arms,

Despite my confusion,

And my mother sobbing to policemen in this empty lot,

Despite the ringing in my ears,

And all the voices closing in on me at once,

I focus on my scrambling little brothers and sisters.

Questions.

Panic.

Crying.

Holding.

They don’t understand Daddy,

And I can’t answer those questions because I barely understand him myself.

I find myself just holding in their panic and their tears,

And Their obligating requests for affection.

I tell them things are going to be different for us now,

But I don’t really know that.

And then the sudden fear of disappointing them

With false hope

Comes streaming into me,

Filling me,

Till I threaten to burst.