I need loyalty
everything staying in its place
trust and respect
for faithfulness is woefully underrated
However, certain of my possessions have squandered this pact
choosing greener pastures
apparently discontented and now truant
Why don’t they remain in their place?
Then, they return
but by then I may not recall their absence
as my neurons shrink and synapses misfire
however, all is again momentarily well
until the inevitable next time
My future? This brain of mine disappearing my loved ones
Of course, how will I know?
Vicious suffering was the fate of both my grandmothers
one, tormented by a metaphorical myriad of stabbing hot pokers
concluded her unholy hell
by swallowing the contents of a bottle of lye
surely an anguished choice but one determined better than living as is
did she feel even a moment of peace in her fading consciousness?
still I need to think so.
My other grandmother died of breast cancer in pre-hospice days
when patients weren’t informed of their killer
a haunting iteration of don’t ask, don’t tell
ignorance condoned as bliss
chosen by those in charge of preaching suffering as natural law
the alpha and omega of ‘do harm.’
— inspired by a poetry writing class prompt about grandmothers