A Pity. My mum eyes spoke.
Anger, My fathers eyes fired.
All i could hear were the stars.
The bright glowing crystals which fell on the cars
The bright beautiful killers which speared my country’s heart.
I knelt as I was hurdled like stray cattle.
My head bent like the stray branches of a rowan tree.
And my spine curled like a baby taking shelter in its mothers womb.
The shouting, howling, crying, screaming, it was all too much.
I wanted it to be a dream. But nothing of a dream it was.
It was a unforgivable, undeniable and unshakeable nightmare.
A nightmare my mother simply couldn’t sing away.
The tears moisturized the tender tips of my fingers.
Yet it dried up like a wrinkly autumn leaf.
The cold penetrated each molecule of water and lifted it to the heavens.
The stars were falling closer and closer.
My parents made me run and run until a frisson of the stars fell on me.
They were hot and cold. Like burning ice.
Now I knew what they were, no stars were they.
They did not twinkle, they gave birth to death
Blood ran away from me, trying to avoid the star.
The stars that fall unusually, they fell on me, and unusual it wasn’t the outcome.