A Dandelion Heart

They thought I dropped the shampoo

It had happened before, you know

Heavy plastic against the shower floor, a sound that could wake the whole house

I wish to God I had

That all it was was the startling aftermath of sudsy fingers losing traction

I'm okay, Momma, it wasn't me

My dad's footsteps on the stairs

I am okay, my brother is okay, my grandmother is okay

And then the part I wish I could erase

  Blow on it until the little threads holding a nightmare together give way

A dark dandelion unraveling in the breeze

The screaming starts

Call 911

Don't go upstairs

I go to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the fan

Put my hands over my ears, talk to myself

I was seventeen ten minutes ago but now I feel like I'm five

Trying to will the monsters away

I touch the walls. They are real, I am real

I wish they weren't

I wish I wasn't

I wish all of this would give way under my fingers and I would wake up

Slick with cold sweat and heart pounding, but relieved

That dark dandelion giving way 

Nothing but a flower after all

But it doesn't

The ambulance gets there before too long

Curled up in an armchair in my parents' room, I hold my dog like a shield

Five pounds of Pomeranian and a rib cage that's feeling more fragile by the minute

All that are protecting my heart from going cold, from wilting like a dead plant

Like my own internal dandelion, about to fall apart

My uncle is not okay.

My mom's voice is calm with the gravity that only trauma lends

Focused on making sure I'm okay, that I understand

Even as red and blue lights form a hazy, artificial aurora borealis outside

The kind that are supposed to haunt other people, not us

They didn't know he had a handgun in his room.

The ambulance is gone, but the cops are here

They want to talk to everyone in the house

 My mom is talking to me, my grandma is talking to me

It's going to be okay

I go to the door, 

I am okay. My dog's fur warm even through my ratty T-shirt

And then that calm, kind voice

Blue fabric and badge

Ma'am, I'm afraid you'll have to leave your dog inside

Slowly I lower her to the floor

I step outside, the pavement icy on my bare feet

I am not dressed for the weather, I realize

And my uncle is dead.

Inside, I feel my ribs soften, stretching out like taffy

My last defense is inside, likely whimpering at all the commotion

And slowly, my dandelion heart unravels and falls apart.

I wish I had dropped the shampoo