Just A Call Away
Olivia Alencar
The phone is ringing:
My brother is dead. The news rips through me. The world fades, and I am left with my anguish. My lungs void of air, emptied by my screams, My heart struggling to beat to the panic in my mind, To match the beat of the tears that have soaked my shirt. I am being consumed by my grief. My memory forced to remember this moment. Compelling me to forever relive this horror. The phone is ringing: My uncle is dying. I am on my knees weeping at the news My mind struggling to shield my heart from the pain To hold myself together so he will not see me cry. “I don’t want to die. I am waiting for a miracle.” He did not make it through the night. And I am left with the burden of his words. The phone is ringing, though the call is not for me. My grandmother’s brother hung himself. I watch as my family splinters around me Broken faces blurring past, The familiarity of the situation resonating with my knowledgeable heart They are sobbing, The funeral painting the rooms in black Their grief burning like an unextinguishable flame. Embers that will never fully die, pain that will dull but never fully heal. |
Olivia Alencar is a freshmen at NMMI. She recently fell in love with literature, and read 100 books in 2021.
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