Jacque's Toast

I Cry I cry at my own death because I know I cannot see others cry for me.  I cry for the fatal car accident at the rainy intersection in front of the food emporium and gas station. I cry because now she cannot. I cry for the fires that burn burn and burn. The fires that rage and consume land by the thousand.  The son posting flyers with the face of his mother - has anyone seen her? The son cannot cry because he holds onto hope. So I cry for him.  Maybe if I break myself we can fit our broken edges together. But I know that even with the strongest glue, two broken shards fitted together is no match for one whole. So I cry for your death because I know you won’t be whole again. And your family won’t be whole again, and I won’t be whole again.