Bed

The bed is there to keep me asleep

And blankets are there to bind me

The pillows are there to muffle my screams

My grandmother’s ashes sits next to me

While I’m curled up like a baby

Maybe I’m some metaphor of a reborned life

But I think I’ve disrespected the ashes

The canvas is wiped clean

The dried spots of the tears remain

Remain, that’s a haunting word.

Especially since it’s Halloween. But the children don’t trick or treat here anymore

Ever since grandma died

The old people die in their care facilities

The young people grow old

My grandmother was a woman once

But she began losing her body

At the ripe age of 72

I wonder if I’ll make it to 72.

Coiled up in my bed

My fortress of solitude sleeps with me

And I wonder if the heart attacks I feel

Will last with me till I die.

Because yes, the heart can feel hurt

I’m tired of making sad poems

That remind me of sad things

Like the ashes of my grandmother

So one day, one of these days

I plan to take the urn

Open it and let it blow

Because I think then

My grandma would’ve loved-

Would’ve loved to feel the wind

And I wonder for my ashes

If one day

I’ll scatter

But before that ever happens

I wonder for the day that I die

Will my cat eat my face

The clouded smoke

Breathes

Breathes

And dissipates into the ozone

And I

I

die a song

Playing

Scattering

Dancing with the wind

And I 

I

See my cat for one last time

And smile