I was 7 when you died;
that’s the only day I remember
I can still hear the phone ring and
my sister saying you were gone

I ran to my bed,
screaming into the tear-soaked pillow

I was your favorite, I am told
(they have to tell me everything)

I can’t see your movement in my head;
only still frames of you remain for me

today everyone is remembering
stories involving you,
while I have only your death

destroyed by an unknown heart disease
at 13
your father died 5 years ago,
on the same day you did;
13 years had passed, and
his heart gave out as well

this is the only testament of faith
I can carry;
it is all I have of you.

07/16/2005