dear grandma,
I will fly around the world for you
spend the night kissing strangers
lay under the Eiffel Tower and reach out
almost able to touch the stars with my fingertips
I will walk on the moon for you
all the things you could never even imagine
I hope you live for me to tell you how it felt
with no gravity (I know that’s not technically true)
to pull me down, to pull us down
I will cry like you never did
even when your firstborn died
because you pushed through with those
calluses on your fingers from picking up
all the broken pieces of your heart
I will yell and shout for you because I want
people to know if I’m breaking
and that I don’t need to endure it all
because I’m a woman
and I will stay strong when you
can no longer recognize me or
remember my name, I will grab onto
memories of us smiling, laughing
I will do anything for you if you promise me
just one thing—years later, when I give up
and call out to you, to hear your voice one last time
for a reminder that you are somewhere out there,
don’t.
only then will I know that you made it,
you flew way above the clouds, above the stars
further than the moon, somewhere with zero gravity
where nothing can pull you back down here,
the calluses on your fingers will be gone
and I pray that you will be reunited with him
and he will tell you that it never, ever was your fault