I feel oddly proud.

[artimahadanna]

The first poem I've written and taken seriously about Mom's death. Brought it in on Thursday, got it workshopped by Tim, who really liked it.

Release

Mom takes her last unnatural breath,

and falls still.

Her lightning has been released entirely.

She is done, dark.

I’m so occupied by not screaming, I’m silent.

My body has become a bottle, with nothing

but a firefly for a heartbeat inside.

Later, home with the last things she touched,

neighbours asleep on the other side of the wall,

is when it happens. I wail.

One long note, light in the dark.

In it: Mom is dead, I’m on the stairs -

but don’t you dare save me from this.

My heartbeat falls into the sky,

and I don’t care if it’s lost forever.

With the cry, I stretch so long and so hard

the core of me breaks out of my bones.

~ Live beautifully. ~
~ Fade out. ~