Though I am young, I have died a thousand deaths already, of
I dress for an important journey, at the end of which I will be delivered into a new life. I wear my favorite red shirt. My mother ties my shoelaces tightly, smoothes my brother’s hair and releases the black scowl of her jaded soul. We embark.
Though I am a child, I have died a thousand deaths already, of
We move toward our future life, my mother turns us away from our present death. We are in a small boat and the sea is fierce. Waves snatch away the boat and the water and the sky become the same. We cannot hold to each other. I am adrift.
Though I am just a boy, I have died a thousand deaths already, of
I wash upon the shore of promise, and flies flirt with my blank eyes. Small eddies of water swirl around my open mouth. My mother, my brother, lay scattered upon the sand as well, bloated and still. My mother’s outstretched arms say we are here now.
Though I am small, I have died a thousand deaths already, of
And today is no different, the same.