It was the summer of the suburban daughter
Or rather my sister Ellie’s suicide
“She’s an angel now, Micah.”
Mother sobbed, tears falling to rest on the knees
Of her nearly-too-tight
Faded jeans.
“She has wings, honey. And she can fly.”
I clutched the stuffed bear to my chest
Along with my five-year-old fervor
And smiled…still
Thinking of the cookies in the cupboard
And the fireflies Ellie and I were to catch that night…
Only now with the added ‘when she gets home from flying’ part.
Her wings would make it so much easier this time!
If only I had understood then…
Just like the spilled paint in kindergarten room A-25
And the Mickey Mouse ice cream pop left in the sun
Ellie had simply dried up...
Evaporated from life
And was never really coming back.
But she did leave enough behind
However
To ruin and stain our thoughts
Her walls
And the things I see every single time
I choose to close my eyes. |
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