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he stops breathing a cloud of nightmare swarms around my head creating moments so unreal and silent the loudest silence i've ever heard 3 hours after falling asleep, i wake up choking on truth reality squirming into every pore i cry and whimper, hard i remember the way he answered the phone i remember the poster on his door with the chimpanzee that said, "I am old. Please hug me." and i get frustrated at a little pom-pom creature i'm trying to glue together his legs won't stay on he keeps falling apart i remember sitting in his hot car, because he was always cold, and i listened to his stories, sweating and wishing for freedom from the heat, but not wanting to leave until the story was over even after he couldn't drive anymore, he still told me his stories the names were often wrong the events were often scrambled but it didn't matter i knew what he meant now i drive his car the unbearable heat is gone but the stories still remain sometimes i feel numb sometimes i feel everything i don't know which feels worse |
  
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