“Painting your soul on my fading screams”
Vincent Luebke
i carry those paintings in my eyes:
one of you
fighting
to get out of bed
as we loudly remind you
“your legs don’t work,”
Anymore.
you scream, “get out of my way,” “NOOOO” and
growl (that deep guttural growl when frustration has taken you
and, i realize you are still in there)
the determination, the anger, getting past
those damaged synopsis.
behind my eyes, i scream
for you
to be
Whole,
to be
Vincent,
to be
the Father to Chloe,
to be free from this ugly
disease, to return
to the time
before the stroke
before the tumor;
behind closed eyes i scream,
“where is my Vincent,”
as your fight subsides to “oh,”
and a sigh with a hidden cry,
while i cover my open mouth as i turn my back:
your soul becoming my silent scream.
I’m a young woman at heart going through a severe life change since 2010: divorce, adult child’s cancer, engagement, and moving away from my hometown for the first time—the creation is the real me, Dawn Cunningham, finally in the raw, the real, knowing that I exist.
