Poison

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Poem Commentary

This is a poem I wrote in three parts. Each part represents three specific stages of my grandmother's illness. I tried to get inside of her head and write from her point of view. Writing this was very healing for me.

Poison

Poison.

1.The Darkness Settles In

The sound of the word, it frightened me. I was scared to death. With my loved one’s around me, I didn’t know what else to do except to cling to them. I knew that, from this moment on, my life would change. I thought I had dodged this bullet. I thought I was safe again. I thought I had gotten rid of this poison. I guess I was wrong. I never have known God, not really, but I see why people would run to God in a time of desperation, at time like this one. We all need something to cling to, something to believe in. This was a death sentence. I knew things would be different now. What will become of me after this? Will I still be beautiful without hair? Will I still be me or will I even care? Will I lose my mind? I’ve heard people sometimes do. And you, remember the ring I gave you, take it with you everywhere you go. That way where ever you are, you will always have my heart.

 

2.A Loved One Disappears

I told them I couldn’t do this anymore. I didn’t have it in me. My body is and weak. Honestly, my soul is sore. My life has no dignity, simple things that I can’t do for myself anymore. This staircase, a single step is overwhelming. When did this happen to me? I could do this last week. I’m tired of living I think. I don’t care about a thing. Not the day or anything you say. You say, “take you’re medicine, you need to eat” I say” I can’t do this” my voice so small and meek.  This is a memory of me that I don’t want you to have. I’m not the person I once was, not the one you loved. That person that cared for you so deeply disappeared and gave up this fight longer ago than you would care to believe. However, believe me, let me be. 

 

3.Peace

I feel my breath slowing down.  I’m not scared anymore, I know what’s happening right now.  After this early morning they won’t have to worry anymore. They will be okay and I will be with the Lord. It has been a long night and we have all been fighting for a long time. And you, sitting by my side, don’t be angry, don’t ask why. You took good care of me, with your hands tied.  As for the memories I don’t want you to have, please remember my laugh when we would joke around. Don’t cry, remember my smile, the times I didn’t have to talk out loud. Don’t be sad, remember my voice when we would talk for hours on end.  Don’t forget, remember the warmth of my arms wrapped around  you,  I was safe in your embrace. Don’t grief for any longer than you really need, I will be free like a dove in the wind. So sing and live from beginning to end take from it as much love as you can. So now, please, let go of my hand This dove is ready to land in the arms of God. I leave in peace.

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Worthless commented on Poison

01-11-2019

Not at all what I expected it to be, but better! It’s as if your Grandma gave you the words from her point of view which I think you accomplished well. My Grandma died when I was 11 and EXACTLY 9 months to the day, my Mom died too.. verywierd. My moms sisters told me though that when they were growing up that my Grandma always said that when she died that my Mom wouldn’t live very much longer. And she was right. I never got to know them very well.. myGrandma died of Alzheimer’s and My Mom I believe she was poisoned... I wish my daughter had a grandma or a family period but we make it work together, just her and I. You should start writing again see where you are.

tenderpoison commented on Poison

01-22-2011

having provided end of life care for three family members I can only applaud you. Every word is perfect.... this is beautifully written. 10

Musicmaker43

01/22/2011

Thank you so much. It was very healing for me to write this. I wrote it about a month after my grandma passed away from cancer. And I had been taking care of her and we were very close. I had memories of her that no one should have of anybody that they love. This poem was actually considered to be published in a hospic magazine. I'm so glad you enjoyed reading it.

Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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