On the last day, I wrote
is it bad that I want her to die already?
There was nothing left here for her but pain
and morphine dreams.
We lost her in pieces.
First the arms that made countless spanakopitas.
Then the legs that drove her wherever she wanted
(to hell with what anyone else had to say).
Last, the voice that dimmed from yelling in Greek
to a mewling ow, ow, ow when they moved her,
to a whispered I'm going to die soon.
Her breath grew quieter, shallower,
until the last day, when for a second,
one eye opened,
as if she was trying to watch us say goodbye.
A/N: This is about my Yia-Yia (Greek for Grandma), who passed away from leukemia in 2015. Spanakopita refers to a cheese and spinach pie that is super delicious, though the version in restaurants or even the Greek store where my aunt gets them is nowhere near as good as my Yia-Yia's. Rough draft here. Feedback on a better title would be appreciated.
This is an incredibly powerful piece, so raw and I felt so sad reading it. Certain lines definitely hit very very hard, so it is clear you have a very good understand of how to emphasise things. I'm incredibly sorry about the loss, and I really hope this amazing piece of work with continue to honour your Grandma's memory
Hello niteowl,
I really liked your poem, though it was really sad! It was very raw and yet I could understand the story. When I was reading it, I didn't really feel any stronger emotions than sympathy. I think if you added a little more of how you felt in those moments, the reader would be able to be sympathetic and understand the situation. But that entirely depends on what kind of style your going for. One last thing before I go, I think the title "Yia-Yia" would be cool.
I'm really sorry about the passing of your Grandma.
- Stellarjay
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