End of the Road
I’m thinking this is it, after fifteen years
Back against the back, of a slightly rusted bakery
Three years closed, or maybe thirty
Rust, the color of dried blood
Who knows, maybe it’s my blood
But alas, that wound is still wet
My fingers graze my chest
Only slightly touching, but pull away red
Perhaps dirtier clothes would be expected, but I’ve learned
Half a life on the run, in a dystopia
One that I had only imagined, or read about
The books I used to read
A sixth-grader, eighteen years ago
And now it’s the end of my story
Here, at the end of this road
This long-forgotten road, a fate I assume I will share
After the virus, the world cracked apart
The greatest cities falling first, leaving destruction in its wake
Fifteen, and school canceled before freshman year could end
I had weeks at home
We thought it was going to be fine
Then I lost my family
All of my family, even the ones I didn’t live with
And immediately after, the state was a warzone
It was the apocalypse, and I had been training for strength & conditioning
A high school P.E class, not this
Anarchy was quick
And I couldn’t stay, because I guess it wasn’t all of my family
Two young cousins left, not really my cousins, even
My father’s friend’s daughter’s children, though my father practically raised her
I packed a bag and ran to their home, where they were left alone
Their parents gone, like mine
We stayed as long as we could, but eventually, we had to go
Too much destruction rang, so we could never stay for long
I carried the boy who couldn't walk yet
Holding hands with the young girl who could
And years passed, so many years
I left everyone behind, all of my friends
My entire life
Or this was my entire life
On the streets, running away
Raising two children at fifteen, then dying at thirty
Maybe this was how my life should have been
Because we knew this moment was coming
I loved science when I was young, but never a biologist
The hemoptysis, the bruising
The inability to breathe when it was needed
It didn't take a doctor to know that something was wrong with me
And I knew that I was going to die
Knew it for months, really
The kids, teenagers now, really, knew for weeks
I wrote letters for the two of them last week, and
Even though it was the end
I thought I was going to die from disease
Not a stab wound
"You have to go, they'll be after you now"
They're here, and alive, but
"I just want you to know how proud of you two I am
And I am so proud"
The kids have to keep moving
I cough, and they are blurry, but I can see them
I can't lift my hand to touch their faces
They have their letters
And I can hear the I love you's and hold on's
"I love you too."
My head slumps against the wall
I'm a little surprised that it doesn't hurt at all
Or maybe it's not surprising, given this is the end
And I've just lost the feeling
I can feel the light though
I have always wanted to leave this life
Even before the virus, before the loss
Life has always been something to lose for me
And living on the street has only made it something more
But I have never wanted to leave my found family behind
I suppose this is the way it is now
I am going to die
I am dying
Right now
This is how it ends
The end of my story is now
Here, at the end of this now nameless road
And I am at the end of mine.