Could I survive from this height?
Look, there's concrete, the whole side
falling on me.
Was it planes? I heard
that it was. It was hard
departing, a line
marching down the stairwell.
I wished I could find
a window to look out.
Are we almost down?
I laughed, excited, exiting,
as it rained bombs.
I wanted to look up, but it was
like water from a falls.
It just flattened.
Where are my hands? I know I had them.
Why is my bone
sticking out?
Shouldn't it be tucked under the skin?
Have I been dismembered? Oh no.
I am crying. Out loud. Can I cry now?
Help, someone carry me out
of my weakness.
I am missing my hand...