by Mushroom Montoya
The light in my eyes drips out
As I put one foot in front of the other.
My ears cringe from the sound of
Too happy voices basket balling
against the shopping mall walls,
Along with their tippy-tappy thunking
Of new shoes slapping
The shopping mall floor.
They carry their packages,
These throngs of people stampeding
Unaware that their grins are impeding
And biting the heels of my broken heart.
Their bodies swarm around me.
They brush against me
With their cruel laughter and
Haunting grins.
Their words collide
With my world that’s died
Deep Inside Of me.
I want to go home.
But first I must roam
In this damn shopping mall
Looking for a Christmas present
For my spouse who is usually so pleasant.
I can’t find my wand
That magically turns back time.
Back to before, long before
Our son had died.
The light in my eyes drips out
As I put one foot in front of the other
My ears cringe from the sound of
Too happy voices laughing together.
While I cry inside,
Wanting to hide,
Feeling so very much alone
in this overcrowded mall.
Our son, Jeremy was hit on his motorcycle on the
17th of October 1992. That Christmas I walked the malls trying to find Xmas
gifts for my spouse, Denise. The malls were packed with happy people, and I
felt so alone.
