Rafael Barros

Two Losses, One Funeral

My juvenile dress that I’ve long since donated to Goodwill.

Puffy eyes, mascara gone.

Cried off since the early afternoon.

A young life taken.

Death walking through our halls,

running his hands along the lockers.

Loss screaming so loud we cannot even

hear ourselves cry

I found solace in your parked car

outside of a Chipotle that night.

Your quick wit a comforting hug,

your fierce kindness a life raft.

I put sunglasses on even though it was 10 p.m.

and we laughed.

You brought me light on that dark day

and forever marked your name in my heart.

But that quick witted girl doesn’t exist anymore.

There wasn’t a memorial service to honor her.

You broke my heart when you let her fade away.

I gave away my daisy covered funeral dress

and with it my heart.

For my heart is with the fiercely kind, quick-witted girl.

Not this cruel, cynical imposter

who took her place.