Last Flight Out
Waking dreams
In the lull of my
sleep, I dreamt
of her lying on
her bed.
Her skin around
her hands had turned
ash and her
lips, which were
once red had now become
dry, sagging
and grey.
People around her
have already wasted
tears ever since
she had turned to this -
a shell waiting for the
time to be released.
But it seems like
it's rainy season
in everyone's tear duct.
Tears never stop
falling for a beloved
who is already being missed.
In my dreams
there was a lingering
confusion. Nobody
knew if she had already passed away
or some life-force,
still remained.
After all, she
had turned into a cyborg.
Cyborgs only die
when they
are shut off.
And with this thought
in mind, the folks were
divided. Some of them
who were from the western worlds
believed that in order for
her to have peace, they should
turn off the cyborg part of her.
Those whose root
remained home wanted
a clean and graceful
exit...
But how can she have
a prim and proper bow when
her entire mouth was filled
with tubes?
How can she become a diva
when her very diaper
reeked with wastes coming
from her toxic bloodstream?
In the enlightenment
of some medicine men.
We were told that
it's proper to wait.
After all, nobody
barges through the main
gate, when the airplane
hasn't docked yet.
And so, we waited.
and begged for the
saints, the angels
and even the demons
hiding inside our hearts
to let her go.
She had endured
so much already.
After all,
her matriarchal soul
showed us the strength
of our blood.
Nobody ever thought
she would last this long,
even with the aid of
countless vials hanging
on top of her death bed.
Then, in the time
of our Lord's death
this afternoon.
A call was made
that woke me up
from my dream.
It was my mom.
She told me,
lola was granted
the key
to enter the doors
of heaven.
She finally got
her peace
No comments:
Post a Comment