Do you remember when we were free?

Was it a month ago?

2 years ago?

Time passes so quickly in this house.

I can barely remember the sunlight on my face.

Above.

Below.

All I saw were people-

People like me.

I was walking to my mothers house.

The man on my right- to the market.

The woman on my left- to pick up her child from school.

I hope she isn't worried about me.

Do our people miss us?

Do they cry?

Do they scream our name?

No one is coming.

If they were,

They'd be here by now.

Do you remember when we were free?

I was crammed into the crate with whom I now call brothers and sisters.

They wouldn't tell us where we were going.

Luckily we had food and water.

They said someone would meet us once we crossed.

But, crossed what?

I got sicker and sicker everyday.

The sea took a while to get used to.

I had only ever crossed a river before.

Do you remember when we were free?

When we emerged I thought I would be let go.

The sun answered to my prayers.

At the market,

We were the goods.

I saw my sister sold to a well-to-do couple

My brother to a poor farmer.

I wish I knew where they were.

The man who bought me bought two of us.

Now my closest companion,

The only witnesses to each other's suffering.

Do you remember when we were free?

No cuts,

No bruises,

No unwanted visitors.

No children,

No cleaning,

No paper-thin bunk,

Just the Sun.

Do you remember when we were free?

I remember.

If we were having coffee, then I would make it the way you like: two sugars, no cream. I could hear you say my name when we woke up. We could sit and talk for hours. We would laugh at how my mother keeps telling me that my eggs are dying and my dad can only talk in depth about the Dodgers. Everything else might be too informal a topic for him.

If we were having coffee, you would be sitting next to me. You would be holding my hand. I would gently tap your arm when you told a joke as my flirting has only gotten worse since we got engaged. We would talk about next steps. We would talk about where we're moving and what color dress I am going to wear during the wedding. I am still partial to blue by the way. I know you wanted a traditional wedding, but you wouldn't have fallen for me were I a traditional girl.

If we were having coffee, I could look into your eyes and tell you how much I love you. I could say it over and over again just to make sure you know. I could say it one last time or twelve last times.

If we were having coffee, I wouldn't have woken up to your coffee cup shattered on the ground. A few days before, you said the pills were working. You were glad you had finally gotten help.

If we were having coffee, you would be alive. I wouldn't be at a funeral. I wouldn't be trying to explain why you felt that you needed to leave all of us that early November day. I wouldn't be giving this eulogy right now.

If we were having coffee Joseph, I would wear a white dress just for you.

#MourningJoe