death

 My grandma died the other day
I hate death days
Detest them so

She lived long
Died peacefully as these things go

Still,
Death
I hate that bastard
       (like to...like? knotted inmost self's compulsion to ask)
Spose I have a love hate thing

When I was 16, he tore out my heart stitching jagged craters of it back simultaneously
Gifting me with it
Bleeding crystalline tears

That was the year my mother died
Metastasized cancer
By the end I was praying
Please God just do what's best for her
Not me
Not my grandparents
No one else
Just her

Dysfunctionality
Heh
Exists

Many of us shaped
And formed
And shifted
S
i
d
e
w
a
y
s


  A            
            s                    e        
                      k                     w


          p
    o          s
 T                   y
                         
                                           r
                                     u          v
                                T                   y



Death
Oft does the shaping
Molding
Enfolding
Us
In weaves of grief
The warp and weft meshed so well
We cannot find our way
Without
Again
Are trapped within all-unknowing
As year turns upon year
And
Webs pile into dust

My grandmother died the other day
Oh! I am bereft indeed
I know not how to encompass her
And I begin to comprehend at this late stage
How
My unique and skewed family landscape has caused grief to pile
Like furniture cloaked carefully preserved under white cloths
In unused rooms as in some manse shut formally

I believe I may be in some trouble here
Things frothing in the mix
Too much has gone awry this year
Too many issues (such an innocuous word sneaking vast horrors within it)
Too much, I say

Sleep, where are you, sleep, ah yes, you come when I can no longer have you. When I must be up and about, then here you come for me.
    Otherwise...
You
    Are
        Elusive
  Resisting capture
                          Evading me.

I can feel the pressure
on
my mind

          In my psyche


Squeezing my heart

     Wringing me
Into pulp