one to two 'n's

2009-10-08 | 2:50 a.m.

frail as a newborn baby, she cowered in that hospital bed.
withered and broken.
although she is dying she is already dead
and yet somehow she seems more alive than ever before.
emotions and thoughtfulness i had never before seen her display
and a childish vulnerability.
in a fetal position with a tear in her eye
she mumbles "i have to nothing to show for my life."
i felt sad, i felt angry.
indignant- mostly i supose.
we were here. her offspring. she had us to show for it...
but my anger was quickly fear because i saw myself there
alone and helpless
in that bed
surrounded by cold machines.
i saw myself as i am everyday.
surrounded by family and loved ones
but so isolated and remote.
dead by day and perilously alive at night.
i saw myself as i was.
most fearfully, i saw my future.
alone.
love and happiness
long passed by
never to come again.
full of regret and bitterness.
angry at missed oppurtunities that i'm not sure even existed.
to spend a whole life waiting for something imagined.
because i have been cultivating secrets that i cannot live without
secrets i keep, ones i share
and mostly ones i create solely for the purpose of having secrets.
i have more lives and faces than i can keep track of.
but what would i be without all my deep dark pits, dirty or clean or meaningless...
who else creates their own secrets- just to have them.
to tend them.
live for them.
living for something desolate and abstract.

the cancer has wound itself through her lung, into her rib cage, up her shoulder blade and into her throat.
a living breathing entity feasting on all 70 lbs that are left of her.
and i feel like a machine
next to all this organic substance.
i feel unhuman and immobile.
she is my grandmother and namesake.
she wants me to be all she wasn't.
she stresses this and she weeps for it.
because she is dying
and i'm already dead.

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