Never Forget…..

I get a weird type of sadness around this time of year, because I always remember how much Aaliyah’s death impacted me. A lot of things changed for me personally. My writing changed, I began to look at a bad relationship with different eyes, and I began to value my own life more, after her tragedy. It’s funny how someone you never met, who never even knew you existed, could have held such an important place in your life. It wasn’t like a crazy fan, (Stan) kind of admiration, but there was something that I still cannot explain today in my adulthood.

I wrote a poem a few months ago about the loss of a loved one. It was not related to Aaliyah in any way, but loss is loss, so it applies. If I still get teary eyed, or feel sadness, I cannot imagine how her parents feel, or her brother feels. It’s coming up on the 11th anniversary of her death, on the 25th (Still can’t believe it’s been 11 years), so I decided to post this piece below……

The blowout of a tyre,

An engine’s backfire.

Little kids playing cops and robbers,

Law and order,

Bones, CSI,

….I I I I am screaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaming inside..

Nothing will ever be the same again.

NOTHING will EVER BE the same again.

 

Normalcy is my enemy these days.

Waking up to what it always is,

But not what I know it should be,

As life keeps going on and on and on around me,

And what used to be the simple,

Sometimes loud unexpected noises of everyday life,

Are now the catalyst that fling me into a frenzy asking,

WHY! WHY WHY!

Why her, why me?

Now that she is out of my sight,

I am out of my mind.

Why does my sadness feel so much like fear?

 

I used to be able to get lost in the fantasy of a good mystery,

But the fantasy has turned into a real, living nightmare,

That crawled out of my tv,

Like that creepy little girl in the ring,

Pulling me down,

Further and further and further,..

To a deep dark place, where no strong extended arm can reach me.

But even if it could,

I dare not grab on.

Never!

 

I count to 10 and I open my eyes,

And it’s all supposed to be alright,

But when I run to her room,

She’s not there,

When I call her number,

It rings, but her phone is right here,

So I let it go to the voicemail,

Just so I can hear her saying..

 

“Hi Leave a message. I’ll return your call as soon as I can.”

 

I can hear the smile in her voice each time,

But now that smile I never again will see,

Except in a memory.

 

I trust no one! No one ! No one !

How can I?

I hear people talking. They talk all the time..

But the more I hear,

The less I understand.

The more I know,

The more I question.

What kind of people am I living amongst?

Who are these people,

That allow the devil to crawl into their minds and hearts,

And blatantly tear my family apart,

Without care or thought.

Take away my guide,

My comfort, my axis,

In an act of violence, so swift.

For what?!

A few dollars?!

Is that all she was worth to you?

You will never know the ripple effect that you’ve caused.

You will never know how deep in my psyche you’ve delved,

Making me fear the very ones that are here to serve and protect.

Not kill and dissect.

 

It’s all still so surreal.

Here today, gone today,

How could you take her away?

 

All she did was wake up,

Make me breakfast,

Kiss me on my cheek,

Put on her uniform,

And leave my sight,

To go off and do what she knew was right.

 

The worst thing that should have happened to her that day,

Was that her feet would be tired.

Not dead from shots fired.

From the bullets of a gun,

Pointed in the wrong direction,

Shockingly in the wrong hands.

 

And now I am here left to deal,

With a heartache no one can heal,

But a love that leaves memories,

Not even you can steal.

 

My love is stronger than her absence,

And thankfully,

To live on in the hearts and minds,

Of the ones she’s left behind,

Is not to die.

 

Never forget her.

Please, never forget.

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About bak2moi

I am a woman trying to balance motherhood and womanhood, while pursuing her dreams. Hopefully I get to keep at least foot on the ground during the process.
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