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Little Pink Bunny

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Little Pink Bunny

Skin so smooth as a baby's butt.
Laying there so still,
Open eyes,
Wide.
Seeing clearly into everyones heart.
You don't respond,
You can't respond.
Slowly you lift your arm for the
soft pink bunny you gave Briana
so many years ago.
She was five.
You were not.
The cancer, then,
that bubble in your brain,
was new.
Like the bunny.
Now they have both aged.
Cancer is still controlling your life,
but soon
you won't have anything to control.
Bunny keeps falling,
you reach, you try to reach.
Nothing responds, nothing moves.
You push, keep trying.
This time your arm moves, slowly up and then,
down.
Everyone smiles.
You can still move.
Still whisper “I Love You Nana” before Nana leaves.
Meds are cut back.
You're better, more relaxed,
for now.
You're scared.
Blink once for yes,
twice for no.
Are you scared?
Once.
Water,
or is it tears
running,
always running out of your eyes.
Are you happy to see me?
I play volleyball now.
I'm eight inches taller than the last time you saw me.
I wear eyeliner.
I wear size 9.5 shoes.
My volleyball shoes are red, even though my teams jerseys
are blue.
I'm a teen,
so yes acne is horrible.
Not like your skin, so smooth as a baby's butt.
I have character,
I have challenges,
I can be a ***.
As everyone can be.
Do you know me now?
Am I different than the niece you knew?
Am I a dissapointment?
What do you see when your eyes open wide
and
you gaze into the deep pits of the thing called,
my heart?
What about Moms? Nanas? Grandpas? Uncle Jims?
Is my heart beating normally?
Is it irregular?
I bet the second one would be the right one.
Your heart is huge.
Though I never knew you
mom says you loved animals, kids, and things like cute soft pink little bunnys.
I only knew the cancer.
Your heart has been ticking down for...almost 30 years.
The cancer is taking it.
Now we wait, days.
Family together.
Take her home god.
Her time is now.
Lays there stiff and helpless
waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
for an angel to come and sweep you out of your bed.
To a place you can
talk,
run,
dance,
think clearly.
Be free from the cancer controlling.
Unfair.
Something you never deserve.
No one deserves.
Bandanas are your favorite.
You like your nails long,
as well as you hair.
The only hair you have left, though,
stringy and back to the way back of your head.
Don't always get your way.
You like,
no love your family.
Old,
young,
and awaiting to be born,
size of a kumuat.
What is a kumquat anyways?
Never be a real live grandma,
but will always be wanted,
remembered,
passed on forever.
I wish I could know you better,
know what I've been missing for all these years.
In a way I do know what I am missing, and wish that I was missing nothing.
That someone should've helped Uncle Jim.
Maybe your family?
All of them, it seemed dropped off the face of the Earth,
though one brother lives only in Brighton.
“Our” side helped.
We'll miss you.
Love you forever.
The cancer will take you,
Max of two weeks.
Knowing, though, how you've outlived all the Max's in your life,
You may outlive this one too.
Final Goodbye's.
Goodbye forever.
You're as close to happy as you'll be.
Off those miserable meds and
that feeding tube.
Shoving food into your stomach.
Goodbye forever.

Love, Eden.





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