Something strange happened today
We learned to divide numbers in school,
So i rushed home to show you,
But you didn't answer when I called.

I went to your room to see if you were sleeping.
You weren’t there,
Along with your favorite pearl earrings,
Your leather suitcase,
And daddy’s favorite picture of us.

I phoned the police,
Because you once told me they were my friends
But friends make other friends happy,
And I wasn’t happy
When they came to our door,
Without you by their side.

That night, I saved a plate of dinner for you.
I waited.
Until hunger overtook my hopefulness,
So I ate the leftover chicken,
And seasoned it with my salty tears.
…
I finally visited your bedroom.
It was the first after three hundred sixty three days.
Your perfume still lingered on your sheets.
It enveloped me like a woolen quilt,
And I was reminded of your warm embraces again.

Memories of home seemed vividly close,
They flew toward me,
Spiraled wildly in the air.
But my delicate little hands couldn’t grab everything,
So the sweet reminisces slipped out of my grasp.

I looked over,
Expecting you to be in front of your vanity,
Hoping you’d be dabbing foundation on your skinny, pretty face.
Yearning for your smile and laughter.

But your chair was empty.
I was alone.
…
I found a broken mirror on the streets today,
And I picked it up,
Even though I knew,
If you were there,
You would’ve reminded me of that superstition,
The one with seven years of bad luck.

But seven years seemed better than my eternity,
So I grabbed it with my callused hands,
And stared at the unfamiliar woman,
On the surface of cracked glass.

Her face was pale,
Gaunt,
Hollow.
So unlike the rosy cheeks she once had.

Her hair was matted,
Soiled,
Dirty.
The opposite of the colorful pigtails she once wore.

She was lost,
Abandoned,
Broken.

Because you never came back.