Funeral

By Nishant Sharma

The squeaking floor announced

their arrival, their footsteps whispering

'it was time'

My gaze tied to the threads

of the tattered clothing that covered

my feet, a mismatched pair

of blue and grey,

with nothing concious between them,

not air,

not earth,

not him.

they arrived,

with shoulders empty,

they left,

with their bones being crushed

by his lifeless existence,

while my mother sprinted to rob

every ounce of kiss off her 'still' lover.

they arrived,

they left,

they dragged me along

and made me watch it all.

and so i watched,

as they helped him climb

the stack of wood,

i watched his flesh melt

as he struggled to keep me warm

one last time

on a cold December morning,

i watched it all

with my eyes wide open,

as he became indistinguishable

from nothingness.

By Nishant Sharma