I lick my ice cream cone.
Silence.
The phone call.
My mother's panic.
What? Where?
She turns to me.
We leave.
I'm confused.
Driving in silence.
No singing on the radio.
A dirt road.
Flashing lights.
Red and Blue.
Wet eyes.
A hunk of red metal.
Upside down.
My father meets us there.
I have never seen him cry.
Sticky scarlet glass.
Tears.
Mundane onlookers.
My mother tells me to stay in the car.
An ambulance.
Parents I don't know.
Pointless screaming.
Whites sheets.
I look out my window.
An arm sticks out from under the rubble.
My brother's girlfriend arrives.
Her makeup runs.
She's like a hurricane.
Ciaos.
I see the rubble turn into a car.
I unbuckle myself.
The night air is wet, humid.
I see blood.
A pool.
My white sneakers turn red.
My father yells at me to leave.
I can't see.
A cop rushes over to me.
My mother tells me to close my eye.
Walk away.
The unformed man picks me up.
Someone says my name.
A ghost?
The crowbar opens up the metal wrapping.
My brother's inside.
His eyes are gray, not green.
I see strings in his throat.
He's hanging.
Suspended.
Hands on the wheels.
A laugh on his lips.
The arrow is stuck on hundred.
Three more people inside with gray eyes.
I count their broken teeth.
One survivor they say.
I don't know her.
I start to cry.
I don't understand why.
The cop throws me in my seat.
He eats the key.
I'm locked inside.
Who am I?
I can't see.
My brother is in a bag.
A mirror of tears.
Apologies.
I look away.
Orange dust in my hair.
Memories tattooed on my eyes.
My fingers are sticky.
My ice cream is gone.
Melted.
I dropped it.
YOU ARE READING
Crystal Scars
Poetry♥ A book of dark poetry ♥ "Scars shows us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going." Cover by AASMA-
