Gone
written by: Raeshmika Sabarigiri
9:30 pm
eyes closed. mind a barren land.
driving home from Dallas.
a sharp pounding rocking my skull,
that is how i hear you leave.
my mom slams her head against the door,
my sister with her sharp horrible wails that project in the small car.
my head unscrews from my shoulders,
my perception of mentality and physicality
unravel and merge,
until the only reality i know is you,
the one gone.
4:00 pm
we board the plane to india.
my mom doesn’t eat the whole way.
her blood curls and clots and
red red grief eats her instead.
10:00 am
i arrive to the arms of my ammachi, my grandma.
her petite frame makes sounds of my nightmare.
eyes prod and poke unfamiliar into my body,
but i don’t take any notice.
can’t afford to.
you lie there still as sleeping.
the world bleeds itself into a sickly green
and gently closes my eyes as my soul heaves to the ground.
everybody speaks idioms and even you are something of a mystery
as my mind paints horrid pictures of your death.
but something in your eyes gives me
the quiet that i so long for.
