March 25, 2011
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He asks me if I’m ready…
I lay on a black leather table.
The buzzing of the gun begins.

With every stabbing of the needle, I cringe.
It feels like cat claws scratching me repeatedly.
Taking me back to who this is all for…

A metal blue casket is centered in the front.
Rows of people fill the room.
I sit in the first row, third to the left
Fore I am the third grandchild.

Tears fill my eyes
And run down my cheeks.

I can hear people sharing memories
They had once shared with her.
The smell of fresh flowers fills the room,
Masking the smell of death.

As I look in the mirror,
I see the green and white ribbons.
The pain was worth it.

I will forever carry my grandma
In the ink that is carved in my body
And the love engraved in my heart.

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