February 24, 2014 § 2 Comments

for Muna

Age nine,
I’d cry when summers came
because it represented
our separation
for two months
or three
and that was too long
a period
to part

Age ten,
you cried to me
on the phone
because your best friend
had been murdered
and I hated cancer
for killing her
and I hated myself
for joking
when I couldn’t reply

Age eleven,
your mother found out
about what we did,
in the park
and she was exasperated
she was mad
and she no longer liked us

Age twelve,
they stole you away
from us
and you would cry
at night
then say that
everything was alright
because you did not trust me
but who are you
to blame

Age thirteen,
it was time
you left away
a separate continent
we hugged
once, twice, thrice
I cried
unable to fathom
the reality
that your father
was not joking
this time

Age fourteen,
I sunk
deep into depression
it got hold of me
like the waves
that night
and I did not talk to you
as often
as the year

Age fifteen,
we spoke
at least weekly
and would
make sure
we were okay,
you rescued me
and I forgot to thank you

Age sixteen,
I met you again
but it lasted
only so long; a day
or two
because you had to leave.
I hugged you
once, twice, thrice
another, after the other
and I wouldn’t let go
“Please don’t leave,
Just stay”
and I knew,
that couldn’t happen.

Now we are closer
than ever
and I miss you
and I recall
and it feels like a dagger
stabbing me
in the chest
once, twice, thrice
every time
I pass by the door
where we said our goodbyes,

and when you left,
I fell to the ground
I bawled
and bawled
and bawled
and now,
I cry
and I hope
the next time
you don’t leave
and stay.


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