Good Mourning 

For a second, I was a little surprised that I was alive

As I have awoken from the death of my dream,

 with my mother’s short patience giving her sweet tone a try

I was awake seconds before but I pretended 

for no actual purpose

She loomed over me as if she was

 staring down on me in a coffin rather than a queen size bed

Just the thought of it made my chest heavy, 

making be beg for two deep breaths

And in those grasping moments, she decided to leave, 

and for some reason I didn’t want her to go away  

“Wait” I called out breathlessly, my lungs feeling like a limited space to breathe in, as I am anticipating another round of the blood pounding in my ears and my own throat suffocating me quietly as she comes back around to ask for my reasons 

I didn’t intend on whispering a thing to another ear, nor did I plan to rain, 

But with the breaking in my voice, I said “I dreamed that I died. And my brother did too” 

She came with her comfort and smoothing my hair out of my face, just like a mother should, but it made me more disarmed

Not like I showed that to her already. I was already uncomfortable to rain in front of someone as it is.

She held me like the child I never got to be, her somewhat reassuring hot breath welcoming me a promise that it isn’t real 

But what she didn’t know was that I lived that dream

And I wasn’t aware for neither deaths 

Not for mine or my brothers

No. I had to live through it, my sister the backstory teller, and I saw his passing for myself. Falling off a balcony

Ha. we have a balcony at home 

My mother left me with my reviewing thoughts, and I let her leave.

As I sit up and wipe the raindrops from my eyes I remember clearly that I saw myself out of lungs to breathe as my sister yet again, was in the background. 

The worst part about it wasn’t the deaths though.

It was the farthest from the worst.

My deepest fear, decided to come to me in my slumber

And in my dream, when I tried to speak to my sisters, 

It appears as if I wasn’t heard

But that’s normal now, 

as they’ve always ignored me until I raised my voice to another level.

 Screaming. 

I emptied my insides out trying to get them to realize that I was there,

 but I was all but audible, 

as they continued on their day. 

I emptied from the top of my brain, to the lowest of my bones,

 and still,

 as if not a sound was made. 

This was something I always cowered from.

 It made me have a panic attack. 

IN

 A

 DREAM. 

Good Mourning to you all.