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