on finding two pennies in the driveway at work,
i remembered two years ago;
the shallow grave for your first born.
i covered the fragile, white-feathered body
in cold earth
(the earth is always
and placed a penny on the mound, and on the mound,
and spent the evening shattered,
the shell of a person,
some wounded animal.
i had thought of this,
just earlier today,
as i carried the pennies,
and placed them on the table,
next to the portrait of my father
and his mother;
eyelashes painted on,
cheeks a false flush.
someone once said that it was brave of me
to cry the way i do,
and i thought of that this afternoon as the
hysterics streamed down my cheeks
and out my mouth,
as i dug two tiny tombs next to the driveway
and apologized over and over and over and over again,
as though i were solely responsible
for the death of your children.
and now, hours later,
i am not brave.
i am broken.
i wrote three things today and this is the least objectionable (one is about how i don’t want to play anymore, and the other is about how i hate saying goodbye to you, but that i like that we don’t actually say anything at all). so now i’m going to get into bed and listen to duncan sheik and cry some more. okay? okay.
(i should probably post-disclaim that this actually happened today; i found two pennies stuck together when i got to work, and then i found two dead dove babies when i got home from work. finding the second one was just. the worst thing. its body was on the dryer vent. i am having a really hard time right now and it would be good if something nice were to happen soon because between this and my grandmother being in the hospital and everything at work and not having any local friends anymore, i just feel completely despondent and defeated and lonely and i just. don’t know.)