Graveyard Kitchen
A poem about the life of loss in familiarity
Once upon a time
in a room upstairs
you filled her heart
with the hope
of a thousand suns.
-
The dial on the stereo
twisted up -
noise loud enough
to hide the yelling
taking place in your minds.
-
As you stirred the meal
made hundreds of times
you hand her the spatula
to take a turn
but instead she stands on a chair
in her sparkly clothes
and sings along to songs she does not know.
-
The meanings are fleeting
as much as the beaming
smiles that fill the room
top to bottom she feels the absence of sadness
as bare feet stomp the floor
as hands hold hands
to twirl her around and
life her high… high… higher…….
-
Why?
-
Why didn’t you catch her?
Her small body hits the ground.
The tears return and the illusion is
shattered into more pieces than before.
-
Why did you let that happen to her?
I think as I stare through
the foggy window at the limp
girl on the floor
as they continue their life around her
as if she is not there anymore.
-
Trying to make them see what they’ve done
proves impossible
the eye cannot see what it makes invisible.
As if moving through time her head slowly
turns towards me mouthing
‘I’m fine’.
As she ignores the clear disintegration of her flesh
and all that is left
is her skeleton laid bare for all to ignore.
It happens so fast
the lifeless little girl
in the middle of the kitchen floor.