I just
got to talk with my grandma tonight.
She made
a paper bag apple pie for my boyfriend.
To see
her smiling with caring company,
a
some
one to
chat with,
share stories with,
joke with,
laugh with,
tell her
l i f e
to
,
a n y
o n e,
REALLY,
pleased
me.
I
have felt lonely here,
but she,
there,
at
h
home
homehome
homehomehome
s h e .......... s h e
l i v e s
a l l a l o n e,
h o l d i n g all
O F
t h i s
care love wisdom
warmth advice pain
joy concern beauty
longing anger candy
a n d
television with Oprah
Ellen Degeneres,
Doctor Phil
and the local news
cigarette smoke
decaffeinated coffee
darkness and yellowing
ceiling tiles
stacks and stacks and stacks
and piles and piles and piles and piles
and boxes and boxes and boxes and boxes and boxes
and folders and files and folders and files and folders and files
of newspaper articles, magazines, photographs, recipes, taxes, rags,
all of these things that constitute who she must be, what world she must exist in
because no one really comes to see her, and what else does she have to work with to
construct a social life, to understand what life is at this point, to have lived her life all of the
way up to this point, falling in love, moving across the country for him, getting pregnant and having
children, having him leave you for another woman that you have had to see at family reunions for years
now, trying to get things together on her own, going to school and giving up, trying so hard to get back to where she was at one point, turning herself inside-out and upside-down to care for alcoholic lovers that picked away at her,
bit by
b i t b y
b i t b y
b i t b y
b i t b y
b i t b y
b i t
until she couldn't recognize herself anymore, and all of that love she had poured out of herself had been snatched as she gave it, and lit on fire to burn down
every
last
beautiful
flower
she had planted in her garden
to maybe
one day
sit down and smell
with someone that just loved her
and enjoy the sunshine outside and laugh with
but no ones stops to look at her garden now. It has
all been burnt down and all of the smoke from her cigarettes
choke out all of the hopeful seeds to grow a new life she had planted within it.
so she goes out at night time by herself
when no one is around that she must smile for
and cries into the thirsty soil of her life,
hoping and praying that
someone will come
and that
her flowers may
grow again.
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