headless mode

Lost sight of the road, eyelids falling

two curtains to keep the sick & coughing

patients from touching my soul. I nearly

destroyed a little old man with the opening

of the ambulance door. Even under

the first-responder’s glare, I didn’t know

what was happening. After that, my partner

banned me from the driver’s seat. The fifth

time I went to bed that night, it was past 0400

exhausted but I still dreamt of the dead

girl, the ones who survived her to mourn, to

gather and cry; I always thought us like daisy chains

cut and bound together, so pretty, decomposing daily

I have been going back with each nap, to the sleepovers

where I never actually spent the night,

to oily cheeks, grinning teeth, and that campfire

how the conversation drifted from boys to pain

from pain to Ave—Ave, we called her like how

we named her sister Murph—because the “y”

would be too much, too much

like their mother’s arms around my shoulders

this woman I didn’t know

comforting even in her own sorrow

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