PART 2: HER EYES, A PALE REFLECTION OF THE WORLD
Because you were invisible, late one night
he drove his car right into you.
Together the cracked pieces
of your neck and his mirror
fell abandoned on the street.
I wish I knew who created the darkness in my life.
I never knew a person’s life
Could be stolen by a stranger in a single night.
But now I live in the cracks of that street,
Mixed together with you
And the shattered glass of the mirror,
Because all that’s left of us is broken pieces.
I only allow myself to think of you in pieces.
With crimson ink, the memory of your life
Is imprinted in the mirror
Of a night
While I laughed, and you
Lost your breath, tucked in the bed of the street.
If you lived on a different street
And shuffled all the pieces
Assembled of your life,
Cars would not have shattered bones that night
And you would still have an outline in the mirror.
My anger creates trembling cracks in the mirror.
Unable to scratch the ruby stains out of the street
I scream loud, angry music into the night
And collapse into the tattered pieces
Of my life.
I am a skeleton, crumbling in the absence of you.
When I see you
Through my own reflection in the mirror,
I begin to think that life
Continues through the crooked patterns of the street
And not all of it has become stilted pieces.
Not every part of you vanished that night.
I had no choice but to tell her you fell silent on the street.
Her son, ignored, next to a mirror and the fading pieces
Of his life. Twenty-one years left behind on that night.
(March 29, 2012)
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM
This poem is about the night my brother was riding his bike and got killed by a hit and run driver.