What He Took

by Yilin S., 14

His cabinet wasn’t the first thing I opened right away,

‘Cause whatever’s inside won’t change our day. 

When we finally look, I almost laugh,

Like, that’s it? That’s what he chose to have?

The one thing he took was hard to find

As I thought when he was served, he would flee his mind

So when he left and we returned

We searched the house for what he burned

He didn’t take his will or his cash

Thank God my things were not smashed

What’s missing took its time to show,

It took me awhile to react or know.

No gasp, no tears, no big reveal. 

Just silence asking, Is this real?

I smell the dust and nothing more, 

Not chaos spilled upon the floor.

It smells so normal it almost feels wrong,

After waiting for disaster for so long.

I stare at the empty cupboard and feel neither relief nor pain,

Just disbelief knocking on my brain.

All that fear for years I grew, 

For wine? Seriously? Wine, who knew?

I touch the shelf and feel absurd, 

My heart flutters like a dying bird

For months, I braced for his one last blow,

And all he did… was take and go.