Thought of A Kid (Part 2)
Someone is still holding me.
He makes me feel better.
He knows he had made an awful mistake deciding for me that I’m better off dead.
I stop to whisper but I’m yelling instead.
I forgive you, dad.
All weapons dropped.
It’s a place I have yet to come near & now we’re here.
I’m brought to the only room that feels real.
I feel dad’s suicidal tear.
Here’s a feeling I shouldn’t neglect.
It came a long away & once it did, it came out red.
I look up.
It came out red.
His eyes are sad.
His ears are wet.
It has been felt, but not yet dealt with.
I’m dropped on my bed.
“Give me your hand”.
He walks me towards the end.
A thought of a kid.
Interrupted by need.
“Plese, let me open the door”.
An act of kindness that gently switches to green for the waiting-to-burst ugly world war.