I remember the comets


The day my walls fell—

Crooked as my reality

Crumbles into a rubble

I felt choked as

Fate’s hand throws dust

Into my eyes blinding

Me—from seeing the comet shower he

Promised I could enjoy.


I had never seen fallen comets

Or shooting stars,

Nor had I experienced the heartbreak

Of seeing the sky shine bright with a sunset

As the flash of colors usually marks Indepedence

On the fourth day—working into beautiful balls

Of explosion—I was nine

And wanted to see shooting stars—

I never saw them at night—

I saw flying comets and broken castles

Charred in the flames of



I remember sitting in my chair, waiting.



1+1 = 2

2+1 = 3

3+1 = 4

4+1 = 5


before the comets


seconds before I

knew fear


I saw my personal soldier, my

Bodyguard run into my classroom,

Embodied in fear as

My comets came that day.


I was nine and I wanted

To make a wish

Upon these fallen comets as the smoke

And fire burn my memory.


I was nine as my wishes came

True, but my wish turned into

A prayer written and

Folded into closed hands—clenched—

Cleansed by the tears of fear as Fate

Permanently blinded more people from seeing

The comets fly as a beautiful

Meteor shower.


I remember the comets—




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