Monachopsis

an angel

The hour that struck at 12:16

felt as though a part of me went away in those seconds

and was never again to be seen.

It has also been cold lately

laying on this stale bed

and as each minute ticks, it becomes bitterly lonely

for my heart aches to hold your hand again

and to listen to your voice.

It hurts that you have left

but at the same time I am happy for you.

For you have ripped your way out of your pink ribbon

no longer restrained from within its hold

now free.

I remember our conversation before that big day

you and I talking about nothing-everything

and my soul struck a chord

when I realized I'd lose you

and in that moment I said:

I wonder if when we die, we will get strong, beautiful angel wings. We would be able to fly so high, and it would be able to carry us with its strength. I hope that's true.

You smiled as you looked out the window

and said

me too.

Rest In Peace grandma, I hope that you are soaring through the clouds just like we talked about.