My first memory taught me fear,
A mother’s plea I cannot un-hear.
Perpetually lost, somewhere unknown.
The final remnants of innocence blown.
Walls soaked in blood and unanswered prayers,
lost souls salvaging what’s supposed to be theirs.

All the comfort, the sum of what we created,
with a sweep of a Persian rug,
annihilated.
A whisper of a life on a different sea.
Sunken are the relics of who I’m supposed to be.
Displaced wounds and fragmented scrawl.
I grew up too fast and not at all.