Aftermath
- Tabatha Jenkins
- Apr 8, 2017
- 1 min read
We watched each other when the bomb hit. The other eyes around me widened as my own mouth disfigured from the horror. We never saw it coming, although we secretly knew it would. I never said something when I should've. I struggle now with apologies I never planned to say. The damage is still so new to us. We tiptoe around destroyed memories and quickly try to tidy the area. Sweeping our pain under the rug. There is a hole in the middle of the room that used to be filled with warmth and friendship. Now it's only empty, it's just a hole. And I don't trust the ground around it.
