Ashes in my belly

Can I have some breadcrumbs, please? Just a little — to fill the hollowness war carved in me. My tummy aches like thunder, but where is my mother? She was just here, singing prayers into my hair. Oh. She’s gone. The dust took her voice. The sky stayed silent. Now it's just me, and the hunger, and the smoke. Would you like some of my pampers, kind soldier? No? Why not? You gave me missiles, you fed me fire — won’t you take these too? They don’t burn. They don’t break. They only carry the scent of a child you left behind. F. N.