to see a face Grey as ash
a spiky, brightly lit visage drained
to hear nothing

When my father and me were contained in the same room
but my breath(panting)
my heart(beating)
were the only ones

“daddy”

death pushed me backwards down the stairs
from 18 to 4
no poetry in his pallid skin
the foam on his lips

(no one told me it was like this…)

I will never have children
womb left empty
for the unborn child’s sake
no one will stand frozen above my corpse
and whisper…
“mommy”