\"Missing\"
Such a strange word.
A nonexistent speck
screaming to be heard.
You can only see it
when you\'re not looking.
I see my mother cooking,
but I know she\'s not there.
Just for that, I pull my hair.
There\'s blood on the carpet.
She\'d yell at me for that.
Not by weapons or combat,
but a little girl
pondering the word, \"missing\"
just too gripping.
I want to be my mother,
and my brother,
just anyone but me.
I wish I had the right
to say, \"we.\"
I will always be here
counting the days
until I stop thinking,
\"missing.\"