he was going to fly

he was going to fly.
that's all i could think
when i heard he was gone.

he was going to fly.
i can remember
sitting in the basement with him,
playing that flight simulation.
me
with use of all four limbs
i couldn't keep that stupid plane
in the air for more than a minute
and i crashed the pixelated machine.
but he
he flew it perfectly
around the monitor.
all over.
and landed it like a dream.

HE WAS GOING TO FLY, GOD!
HE WAS GOING TO FLY!
AND I WANT TO CURSE
AND SCREAM
AND FLY AROUND MY ROOM IN A RAGE!
CENSORING GROWS HARDER WITH PAIN!
I JUST WANT TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM
but i won't.
keep some decency.
some dignity.
screw you,
5 stages of grief.
i only have three.
and not in your pre-packaged order.
screw you.
as if telling me about it in some
ridiculous public education class
ahead of time
will make it any easier.
but this isn't about me.
it's about him.

he was going to fly.

i suppose he's flying now.
with you.
and walking,
running,
dancing,
breathing all on his own.
and
i suppose that's all i can ask of you.
better i suppose.
still hurts.
still pains.
and
i want to talk to a friend
but
but
how do i pretend i'm ok?
how do i pretend i'm not acheing
for a cousin i wish i'd known better?
how do i pretend
pixel smilies
and typed hugs
will make me feel better?

he was going to fly.
he couldn't drive.
he could barely walk.
but he was going to fly.

he was going to fly.