I could only scream

When you died
I could only scream.
My Mother my Mother
you were in me.
Wrapped around my bones.

When you died
I could only scream.
A hollow point shell
blew through me.
Drawing a barbed-wire net,

tearing you out of me,
sawing every cell,
every bit of guts
flesh and bone.

You were gone.
Gone from me.

My Mother, my Mother,
when you died
I could only scream.

The thought of it was
an Atom Bomb in my brain
leaving a devastated wasteland
where your garden was.

You were gone.
I could only scream.