I remember you there, sitting at the kitchen table in the morning drinking a black coffee
Never anything added to it, simple and plain
There were life lessons lost in translation, meanings so quiet they were never heard
Time has distorted the answers I thought I knew into new questions
Questions I can never have your answers to
Memory fades; a distorted image so warped and fuzzy it is beyond recognition
All that there is to remember is a voice, a light laugh, a soft hand on my cheek
Ich will es zurück—I can’t even comprehend the words—verlasse mich nicht—but they stay there in the back of my mind,
ripping at the seams
I carried a part of you home with me, just ash and old memories
Sat you down in a sun-kissed country you had always wanted to see,
opened you up and let the breeze carry you away from me
Du bist veg—there are no more tears to cry—aber du bist nicht allein—and time will heal these wounds
The artwork for this piece was made by Taralyn, using photographs from her childhood and the roses her Omi (Grandmother) drew.
Taralyn is a Brisbane-based author who writes in fiction and poetry. She specializes in themes of mental health and LBGTQ+ themes. Find her work in issue 5 of ScratchThat Magazine, Instagram, and her Facebook page.