In Eight Years

I didn’t know

If I did

I would have brought some glue

To fix the place

Where you slipped through time

The tear in the air that separates

You and I

I didn’t know

I was younger then

Amaurotic to the law

That despite every single fight

I had within

That the people I love

Would one day, well, die

I didn’t know

But now, as I see those facts

Those faces

I run my fingers along faded ink

And maybe a few tears, too

But I am so tired

I don’t usually cry

But this saltwater bath is long overdue

And the ashen vision

Of what could have been

Helps me see clearly again

A white windowframe

Leading to a cage

The constrained girl stares at me

“Why?” she asks

“Because it hurts.”

“But it isn’t…”

“Life isn’t fair, Dear.”

“Who are you?”

“You will see in eight years.”