"Already Dead"

"What are you mourning?"

the little angel asked-

her eyes bright, halo unbent

My smile was bitter,

laced with so much pain

As I replied, touching my own ripped wings,

"Myself."

She did not understand,

for she had never felt

loss

before.

Tilting her head at me,

she allowed a tear to fall.

"Why are you crying?"

I asked,

and this time it was I

who did not understand.

"Because you cannot cry,

I will take it all away,"

she replied,

tears falling faster now,

like drops of rain.

I did not know

how to respond, so I

pulled her into my arms

instead.

"Why do you hold me?" she asked,

trying to pull away.

"You are the one who needs

to be embraced."

I looked at her,

so surprised,

and said,

"It is all I know."

And it was true-

when was the last time

I had cried

for myself,

allowed myself to deal

with my own agony?

So long ago,

before I had ripped apart

my wings-

yes, me-

myself.

In trying to heal

I had lost it all.

I turned away,

from that little angel,

and I said,

"Don't cry for me;

I'm already dead."

05.18.05