Amiri Sykes

Post-Mortem Photograph - Honorable Mention (Grades 9-10)


He is burning hell or ice age,

dark room with a single hanging lightbulb,
sleeping on a crinkly baby mattress
as a teenager, he is
cramped, stuffy

Bats

squeaking through the walls,

summer dresses cast away,

strewn across the floor, but

He was

sturdy oak doors and pull up bars
Fresh strawberries
mid-winter He was a small kiddy pool
to dip your toes in

on a hot day
Minnows swimming through your legs
daises in a toddler’s fist,

He was blue butterflies

landing on your cheek,

a last-minute bouquet
of roses He was syrup evenly spread

on pancakes but he

dried and you’ve just put

your hands in his puddle

He is a ratty t-shirt brought

back from
vacation Gum on
your shoe Coat hangers
pressing
into your
back
He is tiny coffins

Salt in a still bleeding cut

Frostbite,

tongue

stuck to metal pipe He was the pass of liquid
between parched lips but now, he is the last drop
at the bottom of

a wine bottle
after you’ve been sober for years
Maybe he’s always

been and
you’re just now realizing it

Some part of you knew this
from the beginning, knew this
when he said hello with that small smile
he always carried in the front pocket

of his faded grey hoodie,
when you said you loved

him and his face

did not change When that smile whispered,

I know something you
don’t and you did not
listen Your heart was
not beating out of your chest because you
were nervous

This is why when he said
goodbye

you weren’t
even surprised
You took one last photo and that night, you used
scissors you know the ones,
the rusty antique red ones he got for your birthday
your favorite scissors to tear it up