I grew up every day
Believing that I would wake up to find my mom dead
I'd climb into bed
Lay beside her
Then go to hug her
She'd be cold and still
Unmistakably dead
I'd look toward my dad asking what happened
He'd shrug his shoulders
And say that he didn't know
But I would already have the answer
The night before I'd fallen asleep too early
He'd choke her
This time without me there to stop him
This time she would run out of luck
She wouldn't make it
Every night I stayed up
Til I was positive everyone was asleep
I'd wake before everyone else too
I'd creep into my mother's room
Make sure she was alive
Waiting for the day
Where I'd crawl in
And find her laying stiff
Not breathing
Still
Waiting for the final goodbye
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoetryA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
