Hurting and Healing
I did not choose to lose you
To let you go violently into
That good night.
I did not choose for my heart to stop
When yours did
When paramedics covered you up
And stopped trying
To fix you.
I am stuck now
In the breaking.
You, on our living room floor
A photograph I cannot erase
In the place where you once
Wrestled my brothers and
Held us tight.
The world is an ache and a burning
I ask, does anything good remain?
Everything, even breathing
A burden.
I did not choose to enter the furnace
The fiery destruction of all
I hold dear.
But I decide what becomes
Of these embers.
Cleansed instead of charred,
I rise, a phoenix,
Renewed by flames I did
Not kindle.
I will never regain my past self.
It is not possible to return to her
For she was buried
When you were.
But maybe her heart is not meant
To be mine anymore
Maybe this refinement
Shapes me from coal
To the diamond
That brightens the world
Around it.
Maybe this is how I flourish.
Not with you, but
Because of you.
Because of who I have to be
Now that you are gone.
This is the hurting, Dad.
This is the healing, too.