Question of Perspective

I can feel the weight of Emma inside of me. It’s evenly distributed, but heavy nonetheless. To be honest it’s a comfort, an early sign of what’s to come. The weight of her body lets me know that it’s nearly time to go home. Or as close to home as possible.

Emma’s family came to visit yesterday. I must admit I was very nervous for their arrival as I wasn’t sure whether these people were coming for another round of chopping, cutting, scraping and colouring. I was relieved to find out they only came to see Emma. Though her mother did mention how beautiful I was, she was the only one to acknowledge me at all. The rest of her family members seemed to look through me, as if I were invisible. However, I refused to allow their negativity to burden me further. It was the likes of them that brought me here and made me what I am today. I didn’t ask for this.

Emma and I were left to get acquainted in a small room of which boasted soft glowing candles and colourful windows. That was until we were transported to an even smaller room that moved, just after flowers had been placed on top of us by sullen men in matching suits. I saw other moving rooms as we made our way to a large field with a stone house in the centre. I spot Emma’s mum and her red eyes fill with tears as soon as she notices our arrival. She turns her back and cries into the shoulder of a man I’ve never seen before. He certainly wasn’t there yesterday with the rest of the family. He is very tall, thin and gaunt. His presence unnerves me for reasons I can’t explain.

“Why is she crying? Why does everyone look so… Red?” I say to Emma.

Silence. I admit defeat and promise myself not to dwell on it. Today is my day and she can’t ruin it for me. Even if we are being forced to spend the foreseeable future together, they do say time is a healer.

After another wait in a long room that was packed with red faced people, we are finally brought back into the field. The men who are holding us are big and strong, not dissimilar to the first men I ever met not too long ago. I notice everyone looking at me as Emma and I were placed at the front of the room. Some people placed trembling hands on me, while others simply stared. It is hard to enjoy the attention when the atmosphere feels thick with despair and swirling with sadness. After what felt like an age, Emma and I were finally positioned to be lowered into the ground.

“Earth you are, and to earth you will return,” says the man who is sprinkling a rain-like substance on top of us. Oh, how I’ve missed the rain. If only my roots were still intact, perhaps I could have quenched this dry thirst. I still feel Emma’s weight on top of me, but then I finally feel the cool earth underneath me. I take the opportunity to revel in the familiarity of the earth and find myself holding Emma closer. I think myself to be luckier than most. Some never get the opportunity to be as close to home as this.

“I know it must be hard to leave your family and friends, but I’m going to help you return to the Earth. That way, you will always be near them.”

Written by: https://jenwrites.video.blog/

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

If you would like to have your work published in Post Prose send your submission to poetrybar1@gmail.com with a few words about yourself and a link to your blog!