I don’t want to be there the day Mom is gone.
That day, the sun would hide under the blankets
And the flowers would shrink back into their buds,
Not wanting to face the emptiness.
The winds would howl and wail
And the trees would sway, yielding to the force.

Would I be okay?
Could I stand against the pain?

I know Dad would try;
He would try to push up his glasses
And look me straight in the eye
To tell me, “Be strong.”
But I would still spot a tear
Slide into his heart,
Forever turning it into ice.

My brother would stand,
Clad in black,
Face devoid of emotion.
He loved Mom the most,
And thus he must show the least amount of affection.

And I, what would I do?
When I try to hide and close the door?
Would I leave it unblocked?