only for a minute
I had a dream the other night, it has stuck with me since. I woke up sweating with tears on my flushed cheeks, my sheets soaked in perspiration. I change into dry clothes and recall the dream with a shaky breath-
A small girl curled up in fear, hiding under the kitchen table. I wave her over, gesturing for her to join me on the floor by the counter. She crawls to me and I hold her close, stroking her hair and trying to calm my shaking nerves. The sky lights up outside in the distance just as sudden as a forrest fire, the blackness of night transforming into a bright orange mixed with a bitter yellow and ending in an explosion of blood red. The initial blast shatters the glass of the nearest front window into a million pieces, blowing the shards in our direction while I shield her terrified face with my hands.
"Why are those fireworks so scary?" She asks, peeking up at me through my own fingers.
"I don't think those are fireworks, little one." I pat the girl's head and she shudders, snuggling closer as the dire situation dawns on her.
"Are we going to die?" I sigh and consider lying but decide against it, not wanting our last conversation to be deceitful despite the comfort it may bring.
"Yes, I think so. I'm so sorry."
"Will it hurt?"
Another internal debate about lying proceeds this question before I reply, "Maybe, but only for a minute and then it's all gravy. I've got you. You're not alone. You have never been alone." Subconsciously I pray as I say these words, a silent but desperate scream reverberating throughout my inner turmoil.
Please God don't let this be real but if it is, I love you and I'm sorry! Forgive me!
The child's eyes mirror my own and I notice our matching brown, her face nearly identical to mine except twenty years younger and significantly more innocent.
"You're not alone either." She whispers back and something inside of me clicks, both of us hanging on to each other until the very end.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
your heart breaks forevermore
PoesíaA combination of both poetry and story-telling, I hope you all enjoy this collection as much as I enjoyed writing it. Poetry has always been an escape for me, whether it be based on something real or entirely fictional. I pray you all can escape int...
