The tears are for her,
The end of an era.
She was the last link,
Keeping me close to my grandmother.
Walking into the house,
It’s a time capsule.
A place filled with Peter Pan magic,
Where you found your child self again.
A safe place full of unconditional love,
Reassuring in its never changing face.
And her chair still sits waiting,
Like she’s just in the other room,
Weave me a world,
Filled with magic and light.
And I’ll keep it close,
For when I fall.
So many goodbye notes written,
And never sent.
I look back,
To pick the scab.
Because each time,
It bleeds a little less.
There’ll only be a scar,
That aches on cold and stormy days.
Added to the map of my body.
Her lungs were raven wings;
And when she breathed deeply,
(My fathers photo)
Consistent in its changing.
Teaching us to get lost in this moment.
She fell into the music,
And was never seen again.
I find thoughts,
And hidden in the strangest of places.
I always find my breathing space,
And today I found,
Your name is no longer etched there.
Where do you go,
When you fall off the edge of the world?