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I'm standing in a small living room, dead center. My family and even some people I don't know, all proud Mexican people, stand around me.

I don't know why, but this memory is blurry and filled with static.

Some buzzing, angry voice cuts my ears. The sound a sharp, electric squeal. It hurts less as I get used to it, but I've been used to it. My ears tune the squeal and I know this sound. My uncle maybe. To be honest I can't remember.

My mind drifts off.

I blink in the light from the projector. Words flash across a sterile screen, something about an opioid overdose. First aid training presentation. I sit in a chair that's too small for me. My hips feel bruised.

Someone in class answers a question but I'm barely paying any mind. I can't stop thinking about drugs. I read the words in our follow along study guide earlier and now I can't get it out of my head...my head.

The hum turns into a low rumble.

I glance over to where it's coming from, the corner of a ****** apartment, the rumble creeps through the wall until it hits the sliding door to the balcony. Lightning bolt. I'm tripping acid somewhere I used to live.

I know I'm not there though. Just more flashbacks. Just more memories of things that feel good.

The phone rings.

I'm in my car, my cousin hesitates through the phone. My grandpa has cancer. I don't know how to feel because I've been avoiding him. I try to feign distress. Maybe make him think I'm not a terrible person for not knowing if I'm supposed to care…

I know I feel something. My stomach feels uneasy, like it always does. Except right now it feels uneasy like it usually doesn't. I tell him I need to hang up. I do. But it feels like a lie. I am self centered.

I am quiet.

The living room full of brown skin and brown eyes, red spit. They yell at me. My uncle's make fun of me for being ashamed of my skin. My last name is Montejano, but today my thirteen year old self has disowned my family. I'm tired of being called immigrant at school.

My cousins are solace, peace. I'm sure one of them told, but they pretend they care and some of them mean it. I am the bully in my family, I see them and I wonder if I even deserve my brown skin.

The memory sort of fades as I listen to the talking in front of me. Projector playing a slideshow. Things I should be writing, things I know. My right index finger is cut by a glass I'm washing in the sink.

The wound is large. I can see loose tissue while I wash it out. We find duct tape and some paper towels from the burgers we had last night.

I snort xanax. I'm outside.

Someone's playing guitar, I'm looking at the ceiling. It's just a memory but it feels so good.

My grandpa is in the driver's seat of a semi truck. We are passing a massive golden spire surrounded by trees. Somewhere near Maine or Virginia. As I try to remember the place we were, his face fades. His black hair is grey. And I don't remember it.

We're sleeping at a truck stop where he warns me not to open the doors at night. I don't sleep.

I step out of my dad's pick up truck a week later and it's the first time I experience perspective shifts, his truck isn't as big as my grandpas.

This is the first time I realise how small I am.

I'm pulling into a parking space as I get home from work. I can't remember how I got here.
A Simillacrum Aug 2019
Fold for life, unfold for death.
Conscience coming on strong.
What are your regrets?
These bones would be between my
fingers regardless.
All good fun in tow,
but now your ghost knows.
You had a show to live,
and yes you did.
I see my feet fall
within your prints.
All good to blame,
when I'm doing this.
mjad Jun 2019
Should I be worried about something?
I stood by the bed and everyone cried, I held his hand and felt nothing
Quite literally since my grandpa was dead
But also because there might be something wrong inside of my head
I observed the time and told the nurse who walked in the room
One week later he was in a tomb
More like a six foot box in a wall
Flowers and a name as a rememberance is all
We visit occasionally my parents and I
An empty flower vase greets us each time
I take one from Dorothy's box right next door
Her family doesn't visit her anymore
But her flowers are there everytime that we go
So I move them around, it's not like she knows
My mother cries and my father stands strong letting one or two tears hit the ground
But I stand there and read names of strangers all around
Leaving behind people like my parents who mourn and remember
And granddaughters like me who don't cry and whatever
My mom calls it being strong for the family and says I'm okay
I think she's in denial of my lack of display
But alas a tear fell in fourth grade
I recall, putting my cat down at such a young age
Made me realize that death is a gateway to nothing
But leaving behind family that struggles with living
So I just won't show it anymore I determined when we left the vet place
I walk right by death and I don't leave a trace
He could knock on my door and I'd take him by the hand
Show him the bed and where to stand
Just like I stood during my grandpa's last day
He can stare at me and wonder looking on
Is there something wrong with this human?
I find myself thinking that I know it all, but I still am left asking
Should I be worried about something? Is it okay to feel nothing?
i wrote another poem about his death but didn't know which was better so i just posted both
mjad Jun 2019
Is it wrong of me
To stare at my grandpa as he falls asleep
Eternally
And feel absolutely nothing
Except annoyance
At the reaction of my family
The messy tears that are rolling
I wonder why they cared so deeply
As if the world will end
With the exhalation of his last breathe
Knowing
That is not the case at all
The world will end
When we breathe our last
Individually
So I stare at my grandpa
Wondering if it is wrong of me
To feel better knowing
That it is not mine,
But his world ending
i wrote another poem about his death but didnt know which was better so i just posted both
Salmabanu Hatim Jun 2019
Who, who do I love,
One heart,
Many takers.
I am mum's world,
Dad's dream come true,
Granny's  heart of gold,
Grandpa's hero,
My sister's champion,
My uncles, my aunts, and my cousins, all love me too,
My best friend and even my friends want a piece of my heart,
Not to forget the old lady who lives across the street,
Even my neighbour's daughter,
But I already have a girlfriend
who wants my whole heart.
Who Who to give,
Who Who to share with,
Now, that's a dilemma.
Should it be you, you or you.
Grandpa came to the rescue,
Son, take a cup of tea,
Put as much sugar as you want in it,
The sugar will go on dissolving making the tea sweeter,
So take in all the love,
And part with the sweetness to everyone.
8/6/2019
Love is there to be shared.
Michelle Montoya Jun 2019
He'll Just Be Away

No matter bow hard I try,
No matter what they say.
I wont consider grandpa "dead." He'll just be away.

He's gone somewhere far away.
No one know just where,
But it"s somewhere beautiful up in the sky,
Where there's lots of love
to share.
I won't ever forget my grandpa, when i sit
down to pray, Cuz; "dead,"
He'll never be,
He'll just be away.
Cancer took all of my Grandparents very young. I wrote this particular poem for my Grandpa Hank. He was the strongest Man I ever knew.
Unknown Apr 2019
Grandpa, Such a brave man
It's so sad to have to say goodbye.
A tragic accident has happened.
And now we have to let you fly.

You always put others first
even in the midst of danger.
You were the hero all along,
Fighting fires at 19, So very young.

I know there wont be any fires,
up there in heaven.
Not whilst your around to protect them.

I  remember how you smiled,
You lit up the room.
We will never forget you,
Your memory wont be gone anytime soon.

And no, this is not goodbye,
This is till we meet again.
When it is our time to fly,
We will meet once again.
My grandpa was in a accident, he was helping my uncle salvage a part from a car he was using the oxy when the car exploded on top of him, my uncle bravely pulled him out suffering burns himself... my grandpa had 90% burns on his body...sadly he did not make it and passed away at 11:55am on 21.4.19
nd Apr 2019
when I was still a younger me, let's talk when i was 19 or 20

heartache can be caused by losing a boyfriend

you know the pain right?
you know how hurt the pain is, right?

when I turned 21
the same kind of heartache still there
different man, different story, same heartache

still when I was 21
it happened on August 2018

I lost my grandpa, he passed away

heart attack, they said

it was hurt so bad and i can barely breathe
it felt hurt, but different kind of heartache.

-

then October 2018,
same thing, different person, happened

I lost my best friend on a plane crashed

it was terribly hurt

it felt hurt, but another different kind of heartache

-

and after that,

losing a living human is nothing but a pinch on my cheek.
if they're still alive, then you're not losing them.
EJ Lee Apr 2019
My Grandpa was given a challenge and an opportunity. I was diagnosed with dyslexia at age seven. He never had actual experience dealing with a child that had dyslexia. He wanted to impact my life in some way that did not involve reading, but was just as effective. He realized that if I would not be able to read then I should experience life instead. After talking with my mom, they came up with a plan for the summer. During my first trip to France, I was given the rare opportunity to see something new. He took me on the canals and showed me the county in a way that was not found in books.
It was an experience that I would never forget. At age seven, I did not do the same amount of work on the boat as everyone else. What I remember doing was coiling and collecting the lines (rope) and making them into perfect flat circles. When doing this, I was getting the lines ready for the next lock. At first the locks were scary. The tall cement walls were covered in green algae. I could hear the water spilling out at a rapped pace. The locks were filling with water, making the boat rise higher than we once were. When we finally reached the height of the water on the other side of the way out, the door opened and we started up again on to the next lock.          
When we were on the boat in the canals, my Grandpa taught me how to live on a boat, work as a team, and to have patience. He always said to my mom and me, “you always need to find time to play, no matter how old you are.” That was what the summer was for. He always thought that you are never too old to have fun and act like a kid, now and then.
Working the canals on the boat was something that I picked up almost naturally. It felt like I already knew what I was doing and how it had to be done. I was working with my hands and keeping my mind off of school and the challenges I had there. Doing this gave me confidence and allowed me an opportunity to be successful.
School is much like the rough waters in the canal. Summer for me was a break from the formal education that I was failing at. In school, I had been falling behind and not getting the education that I needed. For instance, my reading level would get lower every year and teachers did not know what to do with me. So Grandpa tried to work around my dyslexia in a way that only I would get. This is something that no one else attempted. It felt amazing that I was doing something without realizing that I was learning too.  
He also knew that I was interested in drawing. So along with the canal trips he took me to art museums to see paintings firsthand. While I walked through the galleries of the magnificent paintings, Grandpa would take his time reading every little blurb about every painting. Even though I could not read well enough to understand, I never understood why someone would read instead of looking at the paintings and letting them tell a story. In my mind, he was a walking encyclopedia, absorbing every scrap of information that he could. To me, he knew everything and he was willing to share it with me at every possible moment.  
For the seventh summer together, he wanted to go on the Themes in England in order to see Windsor castle. I was thirteen, he was eighty-two, and this was the most memorable trip I ever had. With the excitement of a new adventure ahead we left port and it began. We went from working the locks and mooring the boat, watching movies on the boat that took place where we spent the night, and concocting new recipes with whatever we had on hand.
Two weeks after the trip we had together, Grandpa felt ill and sadly passed away. He died of leukemia. On his dying bed he completed every last minute detail before he died. Above all, he did not want his death to affect his grandchildren while they were at camp and school. He did not want them to know until after they were through, because he didn’t want them sad while they were supposed to be having fun. My mom honored that wish.  
Two weeks after he died, my mom, Dad, and my little brother picked me up at the end of summer school. I was not expecting all of them to pick me up. When everything was set we left, but my mom did something out of the ordinary. She hopped in the back seat of the car. She did not look happy when she told me that Grandpa had died. I was shocked. I did not understand how it was possible. With all the mixed emotions, I cried on my mom’s lap the entire ride back home.
Now as I am growing closer to college and having my own life, I still think fondly of my grandpa and what he did. I still can’t believe that it had been more than five years ago since he passed away. Deep down, I know that if he was still alive today he would be so proud of me and the accomplishments that I made despite my dyslexia.
Short essay about my life and my grandpa
Dougie Simps Mar 2019
It’s been a while but wanted to write to you on better terms
Last time we spoke my life was taking a hard turn
Grew up a lot, learned sometimes its best to just let it burn
Nourish those who need the good in me their souls are starving ferns
I keep your memories because a good feeling is for good healing
Raise my hands up only to no longer just feel the ceiling
My vision changed and simplicity is way more appealing
Don’t need jump on people’s throats, take a breath and think about your core feeling.
I’ve made peace with your son - look what I’ve become
I face the things that challenge me,  no longer look to turn around and run
Life has its ups and downs but you’ve seen me through my struggles
Trying to lead my team but can’t always remember the plays in the huddle
My imperfections have sorta been corrected
Still need to be burn by the fire in order to learn my lesson
I found a new love, which is beyond a blessing
But I don’t feel I deserve it and that’s my own misconception
Gave up on being aggressive and showing off for the attention
I thank you everyday for your strength by the way...
That’s just something I needed to mention
You taught me I’m a product of what I go through
And even if they wrong don’t hurt them back just to help you

I gave up the drugs to numb my pain
I look up now but for the clear skies and not the rain
I don’t think I need to pull the trigger to help defuse my explosive brain
For the first time in my life I actually feel sane
The family good and seem more connected than ever
Feel we follow you and grannies policy of always keeping the family together
I’ve learned that I don’t need to escape nor think I don’t belong
Come around a bit more because my family needs me so we can collectively be strong
My past still haunts me and the demons remain strong
I’m working on letting that all go though and not trying to hold on.
That dark thought will sneak in and at times I’ll still ask for death
But I’m learning my purpose now and cherishing every single breath.
You’re the greatest man I’ve ever known and I miss you being around
The only man in my life I can truly say who’s never let me down
I thank you for your guidance
Protecting me from my internal violence
Learning to listen a bit more
You get the most out of others through your inner silence
That little boy opens his eyes now and is no longer hiding.
Finally appreciating my life, which is way more exciting.
Inspiration has come back, that’s why I got the chance to write you this song
Feels good to let go of everything I’ve done wrong.
****.
You taught me to remember when I get set backs
Been through the worst times to get the best back
Wish sometimes I could go back in time and give the low me a jet pack.
But...
You was right about it all, Im finally learning for myself
I hope this is someway a thank you for all your spiritual help.
Promise to keep spreading your word and only improving myself
Hope the angels take care of you until I see you myself.
Letter to my opa few years later I hope you’re proud of me.
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