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It was like the time our cat died And we buried it in a shoebox And made a wind chime out of the bell Carved her name in the tree we buried her under Just says Beans I imagine this confuses the family who now lives there Coffins shouldn't exist for things that small I asked a friend to sew you a quilt out of her clothes So you still might know her warmth Babies grow fast So much clothes from the shower It will be a big quilt Your belly still a bulb of life bursting But hollow In thick black sharpie you wrote MORGUE Just above your belly button You maker of life Giver of the good stuff Holder of the second heartbeat You can only make good things Your body is a mess Genuinely ugly on the inside But it creates good things Remind it of that When it rebukes its purpose And lets go The next one will stay Because there shouldn’t be coffins For things that small You said I could be Uncle Jon I have never been given that I’m not allowed to see my own nephews Because of how the past eats us The past is a morgue Of heartbreak festering And forgiveness is not a time machine Set to 10 minutes before regret kicked in When my own children bury me I hope they do something with what I leave behind So I know that I actually have something worth Leaving behind You did not leave her behind Even though you named her Ellie Elizabeth But we knew it would be Ellie She is not how you will be remembered You do not make mistakes You make life In everything you do As long as you are living You make life So when your body forgets this Remind it With breath And tears And sleepless nights And anger And happiness Make life
0
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
On Shoebox Sized Coffins
It was like the time our cat died And we buried it in a shoebox And made a wind chime out of the bell Carved her name in the tree we buried her under Just says Beans I imagine this confuses the family who now lives there Coffins shouldn't exist for things that small I asked a friend to sew you a quilt out of her clothes So you still might know her warmth Babies grow fast So much clothes from the shower It will be a big quilt Your belly still a bulb of life bursting But hollow In thick black sharpie you wrote MORGUE Just above your belly button You maker of life Giver of the good stuff Holder of the second heartbeat You can only make good things Your body is a mess Genuinely ugly on the inside But it creates good things Remind it of that When it rebukes its purpose And lets go The next one will stay Because there shouldn’t be coffins For things that small You said I could be Uncle Jon I have never been given that I’m not allowed to see my own nephews Because of how the past eats us The past is a morgue Of heartbreak festering And forgiveness is not a time machine Set to 10 minutes before regret kicked in When my own children bury me I hope they do something with what I leave behind So I know that I actually have something worth Leaving behind You did not leave her behind Even though you named her Ellie Elizabeth But we knew it would be Ellie She is not how you will be remembered You do not make mistakes You make life In everything you do As long as you are living You make life So when your body forgets this Remind it With breath And tears And sleepless nights And anger And happiness Make life
jon-tobias
Written by
American
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
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