Emergency room vacation. 

Driving even when the holiday’s begun. 

I’m not as scared as I should be,

The hairline is disappearing,

And I’m crying. 

While you laugh on the beach/ or clear out lazily on your snowboard. 

Weird how winter works. 

It’s different everywhere. 

Everything heals where I come from,

As the candles burn and my feet ache. 

Matzah meal dishes settle into my stomach

The meds make it calmer but… they don’t help grow back what my little sister is horribly missing or

Make it easier to look at her or give my family, my siblings,

my parents , the unity it never was supposed to have from that first moment

when they stepped on the cup and broke the separate, lovely hands

that were loneliness

and happiness. 

 It doesn’t die away my father’s anger

Or cool my sweaty head.

It doesn’t hold my hand like a best friend would,

like my empty palm yearns for. 

And lacks.