My parents walk inside and see my head
Burrowing my hands into its cave
I hear the steady breath of my dear mom
Who never saw a soul she couldn’t save.
Are you alright? she asks as I glance up
And look away at once. I cannot see
The furrowed pity from her aging brow
She never knew my Lilac from a tree.
Son. Now Dad is steadying his voice
To bring me home, away, away, away
But I can’t breathe unless I’m here with her.
I’m sure that if I tried, there’d be no day.
Endless night is life without her quirks:
The playful fights, her sweetly fading smirks.
She loved to trick, to catch me in the dark
And now it’s done without her winking spark.
Without a word, with just one angry scowl
I send them off, those people who don’t know.
I’m glad I stayed when through the flapping doors
Walks teary eyes, stained scrubs, a face of stone.
They found this in her clothes, the woman sobs
But catches then the waver in her chest.
I thought that you should take it home with you.
I’m sorry. Then she flies away to rest.
Shock doesn’t wear, it’s fresh as its first sting
But I look down and in my hands it lies:
The only thing the car did not destroy,
I hold it tight, my consolation prize.
Absently, I touch the tiny start
The music player spikes its cruel knife:
“I Never Knew” is blasting, loud and clear
Into my ear, my brain, my hollow life.
She never ran without its constant hum,
The tiny box that bled her heart and soul,
And still it sings, though she will bleed no more.
This fragile thing alive, still here, still whole.