The Night the Sky Turned Lilac
And then the sun set.
It bit the horizon, and disappeared
into a run-on-sentence.
Sometimes, your brain won’t shut off.
The date. The time. Nope, I really
can’t remember. I could, if I tried,
piece it all back together. Diagram
that entire day when she died.
Sometimes, it just doesn’t matter.
They pulled her bones and skin
out of that burning building.
A disco. Exits locked so no one
entered without paying a cover.
A building full of brittle bones.
That night I filled the bathtub,
and sat there until the water
went icy cold. Didn’t feel it.
Didn’t feel anything for days.
I wore a wool coat to the funeral,
froze, even though it was July.
A few days prior, we had watched
fireworks over the lake. Makes it
just after the 4th of July.
I was married that same year.
I was widowed a year later.
He filled a bathtub with hot water,
and then cut both wrists open.
So, I know the year. I was 22.
Sometimes life pieces back
together without even trying.
for Wednesday Muse “Anniversary”
©️ Misky 2019