All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Perfect Now
two weeks ago
ten minutes before I arrived at
my community college for 9:30
British Literature
a girl died in a wreck
just outside of campus
hit by a semi—it was an accident,
they all said
and blocked the roads and called
ambulances, but not soon enough
to keep us from seeing what was left
of her car, now surrounded
by unreality. She was loved,
she is perfect now, the papers will
soon say. We even gave her
thirty seconds of awkward silence
in a half-circle between
Collins Hall and the Science Building.
There are therapists upstairs, a guy reminds us
if anyone needs help
understanding why.
four months ago across the ocean
in a country some people say
doesn’t even exist
a six-year-old was “found dead”
in a car wreck
that was caused on purpose
by the people who were supposed to be
protecting her
who wear the uniforms and are called
the most moral army on earth.
she was older than she was,
even though the papers showed her
smiling next to a pink teddy bear.
and still every day she walks beside me
in my mind
especially when I’m babysitting
I see her everywhere, in every kid’s face
I remember the little girl
accidentally photographed behind her
and wonder if she survived.
I remember that for her
no ambulances were allowed to come
she was undeserving, they said
of paramedics, who would have carried her
who would have whispered to her
you are all right now.
and more than that, they could not even find her
in the country that might not exist
in the car that was wrecked on purpose
that no ambulances were allowed to reach
for twelve damn days
first her little voice waited, clinging to the phone
and bleeding
then her little heart stopped beating
but still her little body waited
for her mother
and the paramedics’ strong reassuring arms
and even then
her little bones waited
until she was only ash and silence
and nobody said
she is perfect now.
she is in an unmarked grave
in a land they call “a graveyard
for children”
and when college students in America
(who are like me
only braver)
named their campus hall after her
the papers called them stupid,
agitators, anarchists, commie rebels
I guess that is the price you pay
for being the one
to care
but it is not enough
the world did not stop
nobody was silent
nobody cared
about her
and ten thousand other
vague shapes
that were once children
in a country that might not exist
I think about
pink flowers in a little girl’s room
pink wallpaper too
and baby angels, they’re crying
for you
and your baby stapler
and your coloring book
and for all the children
who are told to fasten their seatbelts
like me
I was too scared to cross the street
when I was her age
I was too skinny to leave my car seat behind
I would have slipped right through the cracks
I was not strong
and when I hold myself up beside
pictures
I am not strong
hind, the lady on tv
called you a “woman”
but you were six, you knew better
so why do they still call me a girl
who is more deserving
of life?
your mother
remembers your perfect eyelashes
your perfect cheeks
your perfect hair
is she allowed to say
you are perfect now
my baby, now lifted high above
the darkening night
who on earth was not allowed
to be rescued, who had to sit
in time-out waiting for death
that took so long to come
but now clouds have reclaimed you
and everything
your perfect eyelashes
your perfect cheeks
your perfect hair
they have lifted you high
above the ashy planes
and the blood-streaked buildings
they have carried you
to the garden to walk with God
forever
nobody will ever hurt you again
they have dried your tears
they have your family
and your little friends too
and you will never be scared
of the dark again
the shadows that bound you
into a thimble’s hollow
are gone
and you are one
with softest clouds that pour
their sunshine and honey on you
and say, honey, honey
you belong to us
you are perfect now.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
Trigger warning: mentions of car accidents, death, and the war in Palestine.
I wrote this poem because my heart is broken over the world events that have taken place in the last seven months.