(24/30) Dust

The prompt for day twenty-four over at NaPoWriMo: write a elegy that has a hopefulness to it.


We chased lightning bugs
while picking up empty
shell casings wondering
if the bullets that came
from them ever killed
someone;

we had rehearsals
about getting shot;
you would always play dead
from a chest wound, while
I simulated what a head shot
felt like.

Our mothers would be so mad
when we came home with clothes
covered in dust.

The day I heard you were murdered,
all I could think about was
the time we were at your house
and your mom said
y’all can’t wait to go out there
and lie in the dirt
.


© 2018 Abruvanamedsly


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