~I don't think my father Is coming back~
Mama's typing away at the screen
Daddy is sleeping, dreaming of a place more beautiful than home
I've often thought that there is a bridge
Than links our world to reality
Maybe why daddy sleeps so much us because
When he does,
That bridge burns away
When he wakes up
There is ash that rims his eyes
And I know that he is hoping
That he can cross this bridge to the other side
I hear my mother's angry whispers
At precisely 12:01 in the night
And then I hear my father,
Wearing gym shoes and running, desperate to leave
My mother follows and lights a match to this bridge
But
It does not change the fact that my father is gone
I talk to mama the next day
It's a shame, I say
That the bridge is burning
You never had a chance to walk across
Through the smoke, love, she says
You wouldn't be able to tell apart heaven from hell
But through your heart, I say
I leave my sentence unfinished
YOU ARE READING
RUST
Poetrywhen you hold the moon in one palm and the earth in the other, that's when you know you've won xXxXxXx If words are the anchors, this book is my lifeline. Just a book of poems.
