I wake up with scattered thoughts of you. Memories tossed on my bedroom floor. I tiptoe as I reached for the remote control, aware of what could happen if I step on one of them. A headline flashes from the flat screen. Today the world remembers the 140,000 deaths of the Hiroshima bombing. I can already hear you laugh. You, in your black shirt with that big bold quote that says “Fuck Imperialism”. You like women who can’t spell capitalism and it’s exactly the reason why you held my hand. Because I hated the numbers.
Outside, the world is a limbo. Cars going to and fro in a dull locomotive pace. I remember you complaining how God is a lousy screenwriter. On how this universe has become lopsided because he has rounded animals and humans but fucked up with the food chain. Men killing animals. Men killing men. “What madness!” you used to yell. God, I miss you and your opinions. Those random sarcasm that turn into a long eurhythmic condemnation.
I calculate my decision as I snug on my pillow. What are the odds of living if I get up on this bed? I remember hands wrapped around my waist, soft kisses on my nape. You gave a scientific inquiry on how long can hugs last. I got up because my answer still has not changed— infinite. Today the world remembers the 140,000 deaths of the Hiroshima bombing. I have never seen the Little Boy’s wrath. I have never washed my face with blood. I have never ran away from death. I have never fought my way to live. But those 140,000 men must have felt far more torment than this heartbreak. And so, with shame, I must carry on this fate.
the wind whispers woes
of the dead and the living—
how memories sting
In response to dVerse’s Haibun Monday: Peace Memorial hosted by Frank J. Tassone and Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #206.
Image Source: Favim
Head over here to join the fun!
DoodleScribbles 
August 7, 2018 at 4:28 pm
Oh the feels in this one.
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 10:37 am
Sighssss
LikeLike
August 7, 2018 at 5:37 pm
Oh, the sting of those memories is potent in your words. I like how you draw from history and create a parallel with own pain. There can’t be any comparison though and thus, the shame we feel for what we may call our privileged hurt is perhaps ill-founded.
Well nuanced and evocative. 🙂
-HA
LikeLiked by 1 person
August 9, 2018 at 10:38 am
Hello, HA. This comment just made my day.Glad to know I have pulled this off and conveyed what I ought to convey. Thank you, and happy to meet you. 🙂
LikeLike
August 7, 2018 at 7:05 pm
I like how you connect the anniversary of the Hiroshima attacks to your own personal pain without equivocation. Your evocative imagery draws me right in!. And your haiku brims with sabi and pathos! Thank you, Maria.
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 10:53 am
Sabi and pathos! Thanks for the compliments, Frank. Now I won’t be ashamed to face Matsuo Bashō.
LikeLiked by 1 person
August 9, 2018 at 11:19 am
😆 You’re welcome, Maria! Thanks again for sharing!
LikeLike
August 7, 2018 at 10:10 pm
An interesting juxtapositioning of an everyday life today with seeing the Hiroshima details on the tv screen….memories sting indeed.
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 10:53 am
Thank you, Lillian . 🙂
LikeLike
August 8, 2018 at 3:27 am
I really loved the prose… the contrast between your own pain, weaved with the ordeals of war… it’s so hard to write a personal experience about Hiroshima, but this really worked.
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 10:55 am
Thank you, Bjorn. And I hope we won’t get a chance to experience it firsthand.
LikeLike
August 8, 2018 at 3:47 am
Beautifully heartbreaking. I love your writing!
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 10:56 am
Aww.. thank you. 🙂
LikeLike
August 8, 2018 at 7:22 am
Today the world remembers the 140,000 deaths of the Hiroshima bombing. I have never seen the Fat Man’s wrath. I have never washed my face with blood. I have never ran away from death. I have never fought my way to live. But those 140,000 men must have felt far more torment than this heartbreak. And so, with shame, I must carry on this fate.
Nice kaayo 😭😭😭
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 10:57 am
Million sighs, Dakilanglaagan., 😭😭😭
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 11:24 am
Ok rana. Murag grabe imong exposure sa social realities run ba 😁😁😁
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 12:44 pm
Wala namay socials… realities nalang, hahaha
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 4:02 pm
Hahahaha. Grabe siya o. Mag-aktibista naka?
LikeLike
August 9, 2018 at 9:19 am
I like how you draw on your own personal heartbreak and appreciate the impact of those lives lost. Memories do sting. Thanks for joining in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
August 9, 2018 at 12:44 pm
Thank you, Grace. 🙂
LikeLike
August 10, 2018 at 12:48 am
I really loved the haiku…it wrapped up your thoughts in the prose so well!
LikeLike
August 15, 2018 at 2:49 am
This a wonderful memmorium, but also full sadness and such grief at the destruction of this bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The line about the narrator suffering, but those 140, 000 dead suffering much more really hits home. Your little Haiku ends the story well; was the life taken to end the war worth this much life and suffering. Never, but yet, the war had to end. But this does not make it just or right. It’s a warped sense of right to kill civilians in war, although, it’s bern this way for millennias.
LikeLike