Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2013
My grandma died in '97.
She died at home while I was eating a brownie.
A brownie my aunt pulled out of the oven.
It burnt the roof of my mouth.
I went to tell her and she was gone.
I was 6.
She was gone.
She looked so beautifully tragic.
With the hint of a smile on her face,
and wisps of hair that framed her face
you would of thought she planned it.
Like a well thought out suicide.
I'm 22.
I still use her recipe.
I want to tell her that they are perfect
She is gone.
I burn the roof of my mouth every time.
LP Foster
Written by
LP Foster  Michigan
(Michigan)   
657
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems