Grandmother This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   How I hated her when she was with us ,

hated running upstairs to bring her things ,

diabetic candies, a pair of stockings, hairpins ,

hated the way she chewed saltless peanuts

while I watched her false teeth slip and slide.

I was so sad when she went away ,

but still, I cried.



Her room was beige and clinical,

with a basket of faded silk flowers,

dust-covered on the window sill.

Talcum powder smelled everywhere ,

on her huge polyester dresses ,

even in the coarse black wig she insisted on wearing ,

regal.



My sister and I sang Jesus Loves Me

for her,

and for her roommate also ,

the one who talked to a pair of stuffed rabbits

as she shuffled up the hall ,

and the women's sagging faces smiled at us ,

wistful.

I stared back at them, wide-eyed,

not even minding

the false teeth and the rabbits.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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