No Title Either Poem by Heather Taylor

do thoughts of me exist
in my fathers mind?
are there unclear answers
he'll never ever find?

do visions of me live
in my mothers head
of what i looked like nearly dead?

do memories of me appear
in my sisters process of though
as the results of only
a child self taught?

does reality rest easy
upon one loving soul?
i have escaped from
within their dirt filled hole
... though ...

i stumbled quickly into
my own shallow grave
with a tombstone that
i'll never engrave