GUILT TANK
Mama never really wanted family pets. But these were second hand, so we had nine goldfish in a tank too tight to fit five. They were just fish after all.
We named only three of them. Not enough time to become accustomed to them all, before one by one, they started rotting. I guilted over each floating carcass. Even more so over the lifeless bodies on the morning carpet floor.
Sobbing doesn’t help with the guilt, but you can’t really help it. Fish can’t scream; they just jump when they’ve had enough.
Mama, will you cry yourself to sleep like I did? I promise, it won’t be your fault.
I could scream, but I choose not to. It is morning and my body aches on the wet carpet, hungover from tears.
They were just fish after all.
Keiko Bruce
Year 13
One Tree Hill College, Auckland
Watch Keiko read her winning poem at a National Poetry Day Event at Undercurrent in Wellington.
