There is that sound like the wind
when you close your eyes extra-extra tight,
and imagine the nightmares
will go away when you fall asleep this time.
Perhaps, the first girl your best friend raped
screamed—until her voice
simply echoed through the freezing air,
sighing in raspy desperation.
Your father's last breath must
have hung in the room
the same way, heavy and angry,
until there was nothing left.
It was 12 degrees as you left the hospital,
and the whispering
noise of your coat reminded you
that the gun in your pocket
would be keeping you safe.
The ambulance sirens used to make
you remember that someone was being saved,
even if only for a small moment
in which to say 'I love you'.
You used to look at them, and smile.