today is one of those days where i'm surprised by how easily everything goes on.
i feel this way for a two distinct reasons.
of course, the first is what happened five years ago. the way we live our lives changed. every bit of our lives were earned again. i find myself curling inwards in an effort to avoid reliving the day, if only because i still empathize so strongly that i'm not sure i could do it. i am devastated by what i imagine others to be feeling- not just today, but everyday- the constant phantom pain, the emptiness where there once was someone whom they loved. someone like robert l. cruikshank, age 64, who was the father of my friend.
the second reason is my sister, my little bee, whose birth i watched twenty years ago today, and who i was first to hold. everyday i know she isn't there, but today especially, i love her.
and every year, until we can find a middle ground, i will repeat these words for you.
* samantha *
we exist together only in these photographs, static
and two-dimensional. i love you out of habit.
strange little chrysalis, small and unripe
in my mind forever. i have not known your process or life,
you, who may also have my mother’s hands—
i haven’t seen them lately, i would not know. i can’t
escape thoughts of you thinking of me.
i fear in this exact moment you are feeling like an only
child. sometimes i have to remind myself that you are
real… for more than half your life we have lived apart
and i have missed everything, each word we should have shared,
but then i would not have picked them as carefully. now there
is so much lost in the endless sky between where i am and
las vegas. do you keep me in the back of your mind,
sister— do your memories, like mine, deceive?
or do you listen close at night, to see if you can hear me breathe?