Drained

Phone rings
at work
How may I help
I answer
He has cancer
She says
Sinking in
I begin
counting hours
breaths
seconds
of his
Bracing myself
because I know
that he will
and so my
6 year old
inside
rages and dies
tearful fight of
dark against light
of what must be
even if never
accepted

He is so beautiful
sleepy eyes
that remind
take me
from and to
a face
nostalgic and new
I’ll strive to do
give
create
produce
anything to
make him stay
His name bears
the space
held so time
can’t erase
the sound
every day
of one
who should be here
would appreciate
such a sweetness
in namesake
retraced
through generations

Knees fall
as I learn
yet never discern
despite all logic
and reason
research
should have earned
Why
Palms hit the floor
at such abhorrent
logic or fate
of innocence torn
broken
irate
perforated heart
separated
life
brain
spirit
dripping malfunction
love flows
down the drain
into sea
of people that
should now be
breathing

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