Damage - A poem, a rant

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Trigger warning: Explicit mentions of death.

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It's fast and unexpected,

like it doesn't want to be seen,

but felt and hurtful.

•

The blink of an eye

and it's over.

•

No more breathing,

no more beating,

no more sight,

no more life.

•

Can you see me up there,

dear granny?

Another woman

unknown to you

will you soon.

•

You'll be both staring,

watching closely,

all the damage you've done

unintendedly.

•

Can you see me,

dear granny?

•

Can you see

my mother's tears?

Can you see mine?

•

Here among strangers

I find the necessity

to scream my pain.

Because no one else

can see my damage.

•

Because my damage

is smaller and less painful

than theirs.

It's insignificant.

•

And then, tomorrow,

and the day after tomorrow,

and the day after,

I'll have to pretend.

•

I'll have to pretend

I'm strong.

Strong for them.

•

Death, death and more death.

The damage is unrepairable.

For the moment, it's in unbearable.

And it will always be memorable.

•

A blink of an eye,

and she will be gone;

a blink of an eye,

and they will be broken.

•

Fast and unexpected.

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—Alex

Geez, I'm thinking about deleting all these rants. Why would I want to have them here?