fever dream

inspired by Cameron Awkward-Rich’s “Meditations in an Emergency”

look! my childhood all around me, 
the childish grins of my kids, all of them mine, 
my kids, my kids i repeat under my breath,
a prayer every midnight. 
my kids with their hearts
whole, full of hope,
& thorns near balloons break my heart.
my kids, my kids 
how crushing, how blessed,
it breaks my heart. 
there is so much water 
pooling in my chest, eyes pooling, pooling in my palms,
it breaks my heart.
i must take a ride to work, hate the people i hate 
sitting under tube lights, play-pretend grins, 
i must accept my mother’s truth,
at night, blinds open,
it breaks my heart.
i must get out of this knit, stop feeling cold all the time,
i start wondering: how much weight chill has
my kids, so tiny under a blanket of birds, growing seeds in the dark;
didn’t i teach them greens grow in the dark? what does it matter at the end of the world and is it the end ofthe world? my little boy laughs and says, ask me in dark! 
i start to wonder late into the morning:
does the wind weigh on their shoulders?
but i start counting dollars in my bank & it breaks my heart; i cry on a stranger’s shoulder, fall asleep in the dark,
i think about the laundry i shoved under the bed & it breaks my heart. 
i tell the kids, huddle closer for warmth, & the chill on their cheeks breaks my heart
& there’s a dream in which
i return to the perpetrators of my childhood & let them break my heart
but my kids, my kids are only seven & i see hope 
drying around the periphery of their mouths & it breaks my heart. 
i burst the bubble, say it in child-talk, hand on my stupid heart —
does the wind weigh too much? 
how much? 
how much?
here, a kiss on your heart.