Purge me grandmother of the rotten remains

Take away these empty years that your death cast upon me,

Call to God with mercy one last bloody time

And beg him to reconsider.

I smiled with unwanted hope as I walked the church aisle

Behind that final confinement,

Out into the waiting procession.

Death himself lead the march,

A sick smirk beneath that hood

His arm around your soul and one on my grieving heart.

He smothered the skies in an oily blackness

Lingered in every cloud that cried in protest,

He sang with a wicked glee

And I knew then that God was no more.


11 years and time and I still disagree;

we throw disintegrated words of heat at each other’s feet

we roll up the rage and burn it with bitter vomit.

I slit its throat and watch it’s back run red.

The day you died sweet grandmother I lost my entire world…

You were my rock,

My foundation.

You were my mother,

My believer and supporter;

You were everything I ever needed by my side…

You were all I ever had.

Death cannot steal the memories,

Cannot remove the imprint you left;

He cannot win because you will always be.


You touched me in sleep

Opened my eyes when I thought that you were gone,

You walked by my side

Wiped my tears

And gave me a strength to carry on.

You whispered from a world beyond time

And reminded me why I was here.

These tears that slip down my cheeks

That splash upon my paper

And run the ink into splotches of pain,

They will never run dry.

The hole in my heart that aches into the night

Can never be filled,

Will never go away.

I will never walk,

I will never believe that you are gone.

My grandmother

My beautiful rose.

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