Sunday, December 12, 2010

A Soul Forgotten

I remember how
her breath blossomed
like the feathers
that spill out
of plump pillows,
when she’d laugh

She suffocated herself
with one of those pillows
around four in the morning
one bitter night;

the doctors weren’t quite sure
how she did it
when they found her cold body

three days later.

Her insanity
had driven people to far places
and even though she was harmless,
those ticks
would make something in your gut
squirm

Strangers gave her confused stares
and a few would take pity
like little old ladies would say
“God Bless her” under their breaths
or make the sign of the cross
and the people who knew her,
well, they didn’t really care

But when she was gone,
it was funny
how people didn’t notice
‘cause they’d always turned to watch
before

But I didn’t forget.
And every time the trees would bloom,
I’d remember her laughter.

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