Lyla

I lost my great grandmother last week. Or was it the week before? I can not be certain because everyday sense as meshed together. I remember her funeral. I remembering grieving with everyone else. More than anything, I remember being alone. I love and hate being alone. This trait is something that made it difficult to keep in touch. But I tried to. I sent her pictures and I attended out family video calls. I even called her one on one when I could.

I can’t say it was enough though. I lost my Nana and I can barely remember her voice. I don’t remember what she looked like. My childhood is a giant fog. I know I love her. I know I hurt now that she is gone. But I don’t remember why. What memories did we share? I can not recall a single thing.

I am bad at titles

There’s something crawling on my skin

I can’t see it, but I know they are there

My doctor said I should give them names

Personalize the pain I feel

Find the source, discover reason

But I am sure that this is where it starts

There is something Whispering in my head

It begs for some attention

My doctor says I should give it

Listen with an open mind, invision

The lingering meaning at its core

I am sure if I do that

I won’t have a doctor anymore