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The Fog MAG
A cloud of icy fog smothers me as
The rhythmic pattern of the clock echoes in my head
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Time marches on
But, I am a block of ice, frozen in ten minutes ago
Unable to process what has happened
Searching back and forth between
My parents' red, teary eyes for some hint of a sick,
Sick joke
I come up empty and still paralyzed,
I make a lame attempt at speech
“Wh-What?! No!”
Icicles force themselves away from my mouth
“NO!”
A lifetime of distant memories flash before my eyes
As I realize I will never see him again
Days pass slowly
Seconds seem like hours as he consumes my every thought
Every memory more painful than the one before it
Not because they are traumatizing or scary,
But because that's all they are
Memories
The skeleton of a once rich, colorful experience
Continually dulling in brightness
Vital details rotting away with time
Then, the fog thickens
Whisking me away to an alternate universe
An alternate reality
Where none of this ever happened
I'm in a just world where he's still here, (in the next room).
Every so often,
Someone takes a swing at me with a baseball bat, shattering me –
(Like the kitchen window was that one time when the baseball he threw suddenly came flying through the glass)
The sound snaps me back to reality
The cold truth washes over me like the waves at high tide (like they were that one time we went boogie boarding in Mexico)
The silver tears begin to fall
As I contemplate words such as “was” and “were” and “did”
And “never again”
Until I disappear once again
Into that oh-so-welcoming fog
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4/29/88-4/30/08