Long Past
by Valerie T
I remember that it was raining
that it was cold
that I refused to bring an umbrella or a raincoat
I could still feel how the water stung my eyes
I could still hear the creaking of our rusted gate
and from a small distance I could hear the screaming
faded somehow
and I remember running to our house
but just before reaching it I noticed
that our walls had not always been
so strong
that our door could break at any moment
that the ground was melting in the rain
and then
I remember holding my breath in my
mother’s arms
told myself that nothing
was real as if to hush the growing thunder in
my throat
afraid that at any moment soon
she will leave the front door with my heart hanging
from her neck
I hoped it will not burden her
but maybe it will
and I remember wanting to apologize for
the weight of my bones sinking into
the creases of her arms yet I said
nothing when I was supposed to tell her
I love her but why?
why did we not build our house in stone?
I had swallowed so much gasoline just so
fire does not burn our house into cold ashes
yet there we were—
standing in the middle of a fire as we waited to suffocate,
our bodies fading in smoke
the rain had stopped
I fell asleep to the rhythm of my mother’s breaths
to my father’s disappearing silhouette
I remember waking up the next day
and that I tried
to forget
