Because you had a stroke, I can no longer breathe
(poetry about my best friend, my late grandmother)
There is sadness
it has set inside my bones,
resting there
making them ache with a sorrow
who’s phantom I have felt
too many times in my life.
To feel the sore uneasiness
nostalgic like growth pains
yet instead of gaining, caused by loss.
Forearms, jaw,
fingers, knees
all clenched in shuddering pain
world weary weakness,
hairline fractures, like compound breaks,
grief doesn’t touch the body
but it’s a cold plunge into a frozen lake,
legs broken on impact
heart shivering, cowering,
unsure of what reason it has to continue pumping,
lungs filled with tears instead of air.
Where is that piece of me
that made me able to stand and walk,
that allowed me forward momentum?
Where has the puppet master gone?
Why were my strings cut,
leaving me crumpled to the ground,
lifeless?
About the Creator
Cereal Oatmeal
Autistic, Pan, Trans
I use all pronouns including neopronouns!



Comments (1)
Thank you for this. I remember when my father passed away - I was ten - and I had and still have some of the same questions posed here.