I remember being in second grade
14 years ago today.
And listening to all the teachers
Run, pale faced and murmuring,
Like frantic chickens.
I remember being happy to not have to work on math.
I remember being happy to get to go home early.
I remember my mom
Sitting on the stairs in front of a yellow
Barn-roofed house
Trying not to break down.
I remember not understanding.
And I remember trying to find the right facial expression
Somewhere in between what I should feel
And whatever feeling I was having that I didn’t have a name for
As my mom sat and tried to explain what happened
And how and why someone would pilot a plane
Into two towers in New York city.
I guess I was lucky in a way
That I didn’t lose someone.
But I think everyone lost something
I lost my innocence.
I lost my belief that I was safe in my room.
I had nightmares and dreams that a plane crashed into my room
While I was in my bed.
I learned of nuclear bombs and couldn’t sleep
Because I couldn’t stop feeling like my sheets were fire and radiation
Like my own atoms were splitting in the fallout zone.
I lost thinking that our family didn’t need a rifle
And suddenly I didn’t care about monsters in the closet or under my bed
Because whatever was coming for me couldn’t be stopped by my teddy bear.
Even as years passed, I found myself trying to reason with death
And scream life into people a hundred miles away and six feet under.
Now every eleventh of September I feel like a ghost walking among ashes
Silently watching the world burn around people who don’t see fire
But I know the ethereal sense of displacement today doesn’t just exist within myself.
We all feel it. Everyone old enough to remember.
And none of us will ever forget.
14 years ago today.
And listening to all the teachers
Run, pale faced and murmuring,
Like frantic chickens.
I remember being happy to not have to work on math.
I remember being happy to get to go home early.
I remember my mom
Sitting on the stairs in front of a yellow
Barn-roofed house
Trying not to break down.
I remember not understanding.
And I remember trying to find the right facial expression
Somewhere in between what I should feel
And whatever feeling I was having that I didn’t have a name for
As my mom sat and tried to explain what happened
And how and why someone would pilot a plane
Into two towers in New York city.
I guess I was lucky in a way
That I didn’t lose someone.
But I think everyone lost something
I lost my innocence.
I lost my belief that I was safe in my room.
I had nightmares and dreams that a plane crashed into my room
While I was in my bed.
I learned of nuclear bombs and couldn’t sleep
Because I couldn’t stop feeling like my sheets were fire and radiation
Like my own atoms were splitting in the fallout zone.
I lost thinking that our family didn’t need a rifle
And suddenly I didn’t care about monsters in the closet or under my bed
Because whatever was coming for me couldn’t be stopped by my teddy bear.
Even as years passed, I found myself trying to reason with death
And scream life into people a hundred miles away and six feet under.
Now every eleventh of September I feel like a ghost walking among ashes
Silently watching the world burn around people who don’t see fire
But I know the ethereal sense of displacement today doesn’t just exist within myself.
We all feel it. Everyone old enough to remember.
And none of us will ever forget.