a box where a person once was

when my father died

they put him in a box

a plain white box

and when i got home after two hours in the air

they handed me that box

his entire being

in an unadorned box

this man that stood over me

towered and all i could ever do was stand in his immense shadow

and in that fucking box

was my hero

an envelope and a metal disc

the only thing to differentiate him

from any other ash

we buried the larger pieces in a heart shaped container

and spread the rest of him

this man i looked up to

wanted so desperately to emulate

floating on the breeze

shovelled his entire being in a box

does a man’s worth live after he is gone

is his brilliance reflected

his legacy persist

when they put him uncerwmoniously in a box

reduce him to ash

took my idol, my mentor, my father, my ideal and rendered him into an unadorned box

i rocked back and forth

clutching that box

hoping my tears could rehydrate him

make him spring forth whole again

but instead he swirled around my head

freed from that fucking box

and let loose upon the world

one more time


the man who forged me

drunkenly screamed

lifted and crushed

made me into me

taught me to work on electronics

and then a foul stranger reduced his essence to bone fragments and ash

and placed unceremoniously into a box

for me to hold and beg to come back

this was years ago now

and i still need five more minutes

as the walls close in

one last hug

never to come

2 thoughts on “a box where a person once was

  1. ohmygod. I’m crying this is so terribly gorgeous. In some ways… I felt the same way when my son died and they handed him back to me in a tiny manila envelope… which I still selfishly have because I just can’t bring myself bury him. I say that to say, as tears stream down my face and the screen blurs, that I feel this. Perhaps in a different way than you do, but in some ways the same too. Thank you for this utterly incredible poem. A piece of me will remain here, if you don’t mind.

    Liked by 1 person

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