Not An Angel

When you come to me with that amount of excitement

Your story flows like a river stream

Your eyes were sparkling tiny stars

When I hold your hand

Your enchanting crescent smile

Stuffing my heart with all of your lovable self

You weren’t an angel

I stare at my empty hands

This space won’t fit yours anymore

That vintage chair…

Looking so old and dry

The book we used to read

Aren’t your happiness anymore

The little duckling sketch you loved

Growing old on itself

The green leaves you came to water every morning

Mourning for the loss

And is now calling the death angel for themselves

You weren’t an angel

You weren’t an angel

You are not an angel

.

.

.

I know

I knew

I understand

Green Room, Aug 26, 2015

Little one, I miss you…

 


~ Aira