But You Never Really Let Go

 
They make it look easier
in movies, on TV
painful, sad, but simple
peaceful

No one warns you about the sound
the gurgle and rattle
of last gasping breaths
or that your aunt will urge
her sister's broken body to fight
as if your father hadn't told
the love of his life that it was safe to move on
and you hadn't held her hand
whispering that it would be okay
you'd take care of your dad

You do know to expect the silence
that eventually comes


Some emotion without a name
settled in, burrowed into my bones
fused me to the floor
and I noticed, in some part of my brain
that others were leaving the room
my dad's hand on my shoulder
quietly saying she wasn't there anymore

She was the first to hold me
I was the last to let her go